


The Laments of the Unwound Future

by huhu_lene_gz



Series: Professor Soot and Assistant Innit [3]
Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, BadBoyHalo - Freeform, Gen, Mystery, Professor Layton And The Unwound Future, Puzzles, Time Travel, rated t for cursing, skeppy - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-19 01:22:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 34,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29618454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huhu_lene_gz/pseuds/huhu_lene_gz
Summary: Dear Wilbur Soot,I hope you are well. What I am about to tell you may be something so insane, so peculiar, that may leave you quite alarmed. I know how strange our adventures can get sometimes.I’m from the future, and my name is Tommy Innit, your assistant. Or, I was. Surprised? I thought so, bitch.
Relationships: Floris | Fundy & Wilbur Soot, Niki | Nihachu & Wilbur Soot, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: Professor Soot and Assistant Innit [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2158050
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer! NOTHING in this fic belongs to me. Not the plot, characters, puzzles. I wholeheartedly advise suspension of disbelief for this! Also, the characters who are not MCYT are from the actual game itself.
> 
> I've included the game's OST to accompany the fic in hyperlinks (words that are underlined) if you wanna listen to them!
> 
> Most of the answers for the puzzles will be revealed right after the puzzle has been written out so be careful! For puzzles involving pictures pls right-click the image to open it in a new tab!
> 
> Solutions for the are released at the very end of the fic (it'll take a while to get the fic up so anyone who sees only 1 chap for this pls wait for a couple of minutes thank you!)

_[Dear](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MuSmUI25Ulw) Wilbur Soot,_

_I hope you are well. What I am about to tell you may be something so insane, so peculiar, that may leave you quite alarmed. I know how strange our adventures can get sometimes._

_I_ _’_ _m from the future, and my name is Tommy Innit, your assistant. Or, I was. Surprised? I thought so, bitch._

_Seriously, I must inform you that London is in great danger ten years from your time. Please. I need your help. And you know I don_ _’_ _t say please often._

_If you want proof, come down to the clock shop on Midland Street. But beware. There, you will shoot forth ten years into the future, and arrive in a London vastly different from your own. You may meet me there, and I will explain everything to you._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Tommy Innit_

*

“This is ridiculous, Wilbur.”

“I am inclined to believe so. You’d never write a letter with perfect spelling, I would think.”

“Hey, I got a Grade Nine in English. I can spell and shit.”

The bus halts abruptly upon reaching the next stop. Wilbur and Tommy alight, tapping their cards on the reader as they exit. The crimson vehicle trundles off down the street, leaving them in the middle of Midland Street in the crisp autumn air.

Tommy tugs at a thread on his fraying sweater. It is cold, but not too chilly. A gale blusters by, carrying with it a carpet of crinkling leaves of every warm colour imaginable. The street is all but deserted, surprisingly busy this early in the morning.

Tommy follows Wilbur down a side street, the latter squinting at Google Maps. The side street is flanked with brick walls, claustrophobically narrow. This is somewhere Tommy will not be at past nine p.m. GMT if he resents the knife.

A general store sits to their left and a florist to their right. As they continue, the street devolves into abject disarray, the buildings more dilapidated, bundles of newspapers and empty aluminium cans scattered on the ground.

It is hard to forget the events that had contributed to their giving this letter a chance, which had come to pass a week before they received it. Those events had, quite literally, blown them away.

*

“Tommy. Remember to chew.”

“Chewing is for wimps, Wilbur.” As much as Tommy would like to be coherent, what came out of his mouth is a stream of unintelligible gibberish that Wilbur turned his nose up at.

The two of them were seated at a banquet, thrown in celebration of a scientific breakthrough in quantum physics. There were several tables covered in fluttering cloths of white and plates laden with all manner of delectable dishes in front of the Palace of Westminster. Waiters and waitresses scrambled about like busy honeybees, delivering food to each table, and attending to the prissy guests.

Sitting nearby were two recognisable acquaintances: Inspector Halo and Skeppy, wolfing down their food at vicious speeds. Everyone else present appeared to be political bigwigs, decked out in fancy gowns, shawls and tuxedos as if they were in the eighteen-hundreds.

Were they out of place? Probably. While Wilbur has made quite a name for himself as a household name in the field of archaeology, they are not quite members of the societal elite. Yet, they have received invitations all the same. Tommy was not even sure what they were supposed to be seeing; he is only here for the scrumptious buffet.

What really stood out, however, was a giant machine standing on a stage in front of the imposing Palace. Its exterior gleamed silver in the sunlight, the machine itself composed of bolts and screws and chronographs. He recalled Wilbur mentioning a time machine, but something like that could not possibly exist, could it?

Before long, the event began. A man clad in a suit, lab coat swishing around the legs, walks up on stage. Brown curls fall over his forehead, expressionless as he approached the microphone. There was casualness to his gait, from the way he trod up the stairs and stood beside the large machine.

The moment he opened his mouth, Tommy found himself sinking deep into the throes of slumber. He never excelled in any of his sciences, except for, perhaps, Biology. Listening to his man prattle on about the concepts of quantum physics and wormholes sent him on a one-way trip to dreamland.

He was certain that Wilbur was just as bored as he was, though the man did not show it. Instead, he chose to observe the machine, gaze darting from the metal monstrosity to the distinguished people seated around them, then to the scientist himself.

“Now, this is what you’ve all been waiting for: the demonstration,” the scientist, Mr K. Jacobs, said, making a sweeping gesture as he scanned the crowd. His shifty eyes settled on a man sitting with his wife in the frontmost table, dabbing at his lips with a napkin.

“Who else could be a better candidate than our esteemed Prime Minister?” Jacobs said. Pushing a button on the machine, its metal doors swing open to reveal a small cavity equipped with a single seat, colourful wires and other measuring instruments hung up in its interior. “Mr Bill Hawks, would you like to show your beloved people the power of time travel?”

Well, this is something Tommy has got to see.

Bill Hawks, the pinpointed man, looked somewhat uncomfortable. However, under the watchful gazes of people affiliated in some way with the upper echelons of society, he could not very well refuse. Begrudgingly, he rose from his seat, abandoning his bowl of soup, and strode up the stage.

Jacobs strapped the man in and pressed the button again. The doors closed, wheezing on their hinges. Soon, Hawks disappeared into the time machine. At the same time, smoke began to pour from its base.

Tommy’s gaze fixed on the machine, leg bouncing with anticipation. Jacobs’ fingers flew fervently across a keyboard. The machine started to hum, the low sound reverberating throughout the grounds.

Whirrs and beeps filled the air, a thick cloud of smoke billowing from the machine and flooding the grounds. Tommy cupped his nose and mouth, coughing when he takes an accidental deep breath. Wilbur stood, chair pushed back abruptly.

Something was wrong.

Out of the corner of his watering eyes, Tommy spied Jacobs standing there, watching pandemonium unfold with nary a change in his expression. Before Tommy could try to make sense the situation, the machine exploded, electricity crackling and fire searing the stage.

The petrified screams that resonated through the air pierced Tommy’s eardrums. A hand on his back pushed Tommy to the ground, keeping his head out of the smoke. Wilbur hovered over him, brows furrowed. Bad and Skeppy leapt to action, commanding the surrounding officers to direct people to safety.

The smoke dissipated before long, leaving the place as clear as before the whole event. Tommy and Wilbur pick themselves up, the former wobbly on his feet. He stared at the scene before him, jaw agape. The machine was utterly destroyed, springs and scraps of metal scattered about the stage. The fire was yet to be totally put out, wisps of black smoke emitted from the remaining embers.

Well, that did not work.

“Bill? Bill!” a woman’s wail snapped Tommy from his trance. He blinked, turning back to the machine. It is true. Hawks was…the Prime Minister was gone! He vanished into thin air, just like that!

“Wha…? Wilbur!” Tommy cried. He glanced around. Jacobs seemed to be missing as well! Did he get caught up in the blast too?

Wilbur narrowed his eyes, lips drawn into a tight line. It all happened so fast, with no time for anyone to react. If even Wilbur is unable to make heads nor tails of this, then Tommy doubted that there would be anyone who could.

The apparent disappearance of the Prime Minister was a national emergency. The scientists who worked on the time machine disappeared without a trace as well, including the lead scientist, Jacobs. It was all anyone would talk about for days.

A week later, Tommy and Wilbur received a letter, a letter that seemed to share a close link with that fateful incident. A letter from a familiar friend.

*

“Tommy? Are you daydreaming?”

“What? You know I’m not, Wilbur. Big man brains are thinking of big man things,” Tommy says, tapping his noggin.

Wilbur huffs. He descends the stone stairs, the path taking them past several seedy alleyways. Before long, they arrive at a shop, the centrepiece of a maze of weaving sewer pipes and grates. It looks desolate, white walls greyed, its windows tainted with scratches.

Is this where they are supposed to go? Tommy does not think his future self, if this person really _is_ his future self, will pick such a deplorable place for a rendezvous.

Unfazed by its outward appearance, Wilbur pushes the door open.

The amazing sight presented to the duo is that of a massive, windowless interior filled to the brim with ticking clocks. Grandfather’s clocks, cuckoo clocks, digital clocks, wall clocks…you name it, they have it. The musty smell of wood complements the rustic atmosphere.

An elderly lady sits at a counter by the entrance, peering at them curiously through her thick-rimmed spectacles. Her lavender-coloured hair is comparable to a bush; Tommy will not be surprised if a tiny bird pops out from that thicket.

“How may I help you, fine gentlemen?” she asks politely, with a grandmotherly tone.

“We’ve been told to come here by a…young man who goes by Tommy Innit,” Wilbur says. “Do you know of him?”

The woman chuckles, hopping off her stool with shocking dexterity. She pads on over to the back of the shop. “Cogg? Cogg! Are you there?”

A man named Cogg stumbles into view. His forehead is wrinkled and a moustache and beard frame his mouth. He ties a sweat-soaked bandana around his head, apron slathered with grease, fingers clutching a wrench. He beams, walking over to Wilbur and Tommy.

“We’ve been expecting you,” Cogg says. “Professor Soot, is it? Oh, and Little Tommy.”

“Excuse you. I’m big man Tommy.” Tommy frowns.

“Big Innit is in the future right now,” Cogg says, folding his arms. “I can bring you there right now if you’d like.”

It is unsettling, the way Cogg talks about time travel so calmly, like it is an everyday occurrence for him.

“Well, actually, not right now,” Coggs says, adjusting his bandana. “The machine’s a little broken. I’m gonna need some time to get it back up and running. Spring, mind entertaining the young’uns for a bit?”

“Of course, dear.”

Coggs waves and heads to the back of the shop, where Tommy notices a giant clock towering over them, elegant arms ticking steadily from digit to digit.

“How about a puzzle for you young lads?” Spring says with a smile. “Big Innit is very fond of puzzles.”

Tommy purses his lips, not sure what to make of that. His future self has developed a penchant for puzzles? That is absurd.

Before Tommy can protest, he sees Wilbur’s eyes lighting up so fast that they put lightning bolts to shame. He sighs. When has a puzzle hurt anyone?

[ ** <Puzzle: What ** ** ’ ** ** s the Time?> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nXwm7AVhx_A)

“A clock has fallen to the ground and all its numbers fell out! Even without the numbers, it’s possible to tell the time when the minute-hand and hour-hand form a straight line. What time is it?”

“This one’s easy,” Wilbur says. “It’s six.”

Spring smiles in response. “That’s correct.”

[At](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MuSmUI25Ulw) that moment, Cogg returns. He wipes his forehead of perspiration and approaches them, wrench still in hand.

“Now that that’s done…” Cogg says, jabbing a thumb at the clock. “You ready to go to the future?”

Go to the future. The phrase instils a sense of adventure in Tommy. He may have been there when they solved the mystery of the Golden Apple, the secrets of the Elysian Box, and dealt with a Masked Gentleman…but the future?

“We’d like to,” Wilbur says.

Cogg nods. “Of course. Come on now.”

Wilbur, Tommy, and Spring follow Cogg to the back of the shop, where the massive clock stands. Spring pulls on a lever and Cogg presses a button. The shop jerks, and then begins to move. Tommy’s stomach drops, nausea crashing over him like a tsunami.

The shop rumbles for what feels like hours before it jerks to a stop, leaving both Tommy and Wilbur somewhat disoriented. Are they…have they already travelled to the future?

“Do you need these?” Spring asks, holding a packet of Fisherman’s Friend out to them. Tommy accepts the mint gratefully. “It’s rather dizzying the first time.”

No shit, Tommy thinks as he sucks on the mint. It calms him some.

“Go outside and have a look if you’d like. Big Innit is waiting for you too,” Cogg says, making a shooing gesture.

Thanking Spring and Cogg, Wilbur makes his way towards the door. Intrigued, Tommy follows him, legs a little unsteady as he follows Wilbur out into the streets.

What he sees absolutely boggles his mind.

[No](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G133JtCNYbA) longer are they standing in the dark, dank streets of London, but rather a foreign alley. Most of the land around them is under construction, blue screens and yellow barriers with “Danger!” splashed across their expanse erected around it. The shops to their right have been converted into living quarters, dripping laundry hanging from the windows above.

Tommy gulps. There is no mistaking it. They must have travelled through time. There is no way London has changed so drastically in the few minutes they spent in that shop.

“Excuse me.”

Tommy glances over at Wilbur’s voice. His friend walks up to a man in a hard hat and a construction worker’s outfit, luminous strips painted across his shoulders.

“What year might this be?” Wilbur asks.

The man grunts as he lifts his head, the gruffest expression on his face. He rubs at his stubble, sizing Wilbur up. His eyes widen at the sight of him, taking a fearful step back.

“P-Professor! What are you doing here?”

Wilbur tilts his head in questioning. “I believe I’ve wandered down the wrong str-”

“P-Please don’t hurt me!” the construction worker turns tail and runs. The change in demeanour leaves Tommy stunned.

“What did you say to him?” Tommy asks.

Wilbur wears a troubled frown. “I have no idea.”

“You know you can scare people away with that big brain of yours, Wilbur?”

Wilbur sighs. “Something tells me that it’s not my brains that he’s scared of. Come on, I do think we need to explore a little more. See if we can find Big Innit.”

Great. Now Wilbur’s calling the future him Big Innit. Who is _he_? Little Tommy? It sounds cute, but Tommy does not do cute. He is big and strong and a massive man.

“Wilbur, why don’t we head back? This place is weird!”

“We do need to ascertain that we are in the future,” Wilbur says, frowning. “A little look-see won’t do anyone any harm.”

Tommy is sceptical. However, Wilbur does have a point: they are here at the behest of his future self. Ditching him now would just be a dick move.

Hesitantly, Tommy follows Wilbur, heading down the narrow alleyway carved of stone. The florsit has been replaced by a dingy café, boasting their wide selection of coffees, teas and pastries. Wilbur ducks in, the jingle of a bell ringing overhead.

A woman mans the counter, washing plates. Another man is seated at a booth nearest the entrance, typing on his laptop.

“Oh my.” The woman gasps upon spotting Wilbur. She gives him a good once-over before the fear ebbs from her features. “Dearie, I suggest you lose the coat, or people might get the wrong idea.”

“Lose the coat?” Wilbur folds his arms, a little self-conscious. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“People would think you’re associated with the Family,” the woman says, a bemused expression on her face. She gestures at the high stools in front of her. “Please, do rest your weary feet.”

Wilbur and Tommy takes her up on her offer.

“What would you like?”

“Well, we’re not here to dine.” Wilbur fidgets as he scans the menu scribbled on the blackboard behind her. “Might we ask what year it is?”

“Well now, I don’t get peculiar questions like those often.” The woman blinks. However, the answer she provides sends chills travelling up Tommy’s spine.

They are ten years in the future. Ten years. That cannot be possible. Time travel is not possible, and yet…

The evidence stares them in the face. Posters and newspaper clippings are plastered all over the walls. Squinting at the pages, Tommy notices dates written in their corners – they back the woman’s claim up.

Just what is going on here?

“I see,” Wilbur says, Adam’s apple bobbing, as if pondering his next question. “This is London, correct?”

“Why of course it is,” the woman says, worry in her tone. “Did you hit your head or something?”

This cannot be real. Tommy casts Wilbur a concerned gaze, but Wilbur is already thanking the woman.

“One black coffee to go, miss.”

“Of course. Coming right up.”

Tommy tugs at Wilbur’s sleeve as the woman proceeds to make his coffee.

“What’s going on, Wilbur? If this is London and we are ten years in the future, then…”

“I can hardly imagine another conclusion,” Wilbur says, shaking his head.

They truly have been catapulted through time in an unassuming clock shop on Midland Street. The woman returns with Wilbur’s coffee and he thanks her once more. The duo then leaves the café.

Wilbur stands outside, taking a sip from his steaming cup. Tommy watches as a stray cat struts by, its tail high in the air as it shows them no care. Following the only narrow passage, they find themselves at the main street, the bus stop looking more than run-down. Wilbur tosses his drained cup into a nearby trash bin.

“The buses have stopped serving this stop,” Wilbur says, scrutinizing the sign on the glass board, where the bus schedule was posted, now covered in ugly posters.

“Of course they have.” A masculine voice speaks from behind them. Whirling around, Tommy sees a man dressed entirely in black, a red postman’s jacket thrown over his shoulders, where a bursting bag dangles from a thin strap. “Five years ago, in fact.”

“I see,” Wilbur says.

“Are you Professor Soot?”

“Why yes, I am.”

“I would need you to solve this puzzle for me, as proof,” the postman says. “I apologize for doubting you, but things are a little…dangerous now.”

Dangerous? Why?

They have hardly seen enough of this future London to truly grasp the situation here. At Wilbur’s consent, the postman presents them his puzzle:

[ ** <Puzzle: What Day Is It?> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nXwm7AVhx_A&)

“If yesterday’s day after tomorrow is Sunday, what day is tomorrow’s day before yesterday?”

Wilbur thumbs his chin absently, thinking for a moment before giving the answer. “Friday.”

[The](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G133JtCNYbA) postman nods approvingly. “You are the real deal, alright. Only the Professor would be able to solve that so quickly.” He holds out a hand. “The name’s Shipley. I’ve come to greet you on behalf of my friend, Tommy Innit.”

“Nice to meet you, Shipley.”

Shipley beams. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Professor, and…” He glances behind Wilbur. “And Mr…Innit.” Shipley clears his throat. “Younger Mr Innit.”

Tommy puffs his cheeks out.

Shipley reaches into his bag and produces an envelope. “Big Innit has demanded that this be delivered to you as soon as you set foot here, in London.”

Wilbur receives the envelope from him. Shipley bids them goodbye, apparently needing to be elsewhere, and he scurries off down the pavement. Wilbur rips the envelope open, revealing a crinkled piece of paper within.

_Dear big man Wilbur,_

_Convinced? The London you are standing in right this instant is no longer the London you know. Danger lurks behind every corner._

_However, if you still do not believe me, there is only one way to dispel your doubts. Make your way to the hospital on Auckland Lane. There, you will meet someone and find something which shall clear up the fog in your minds._

_Your next instructions lie in those clues that I have left for you. I wish you the best of luck._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Tommy Innit_

“Another letter from the future me.” Well, Tommy is not sure what to feel when he realizes that he has suddenly got _manners_ now. And that he still calls people “big man”.

“Indeed,” Wilbur says, slipping the letter back into its envelope. “Auckland Lane, hmm? I don’t remember that there was a hospital there, though.”

There is only one way to find out.

“Before we proceed,” Wilbur says, “I think we should try to find a hotel. A base of operations.”

Tommy nods. Wilbur’s got a point. Perhaps they may find one along these streets. Two strange people in a strange city…this adventure is just starting, but Tommy knows that it is going to be absolutely bamboozling by the end of it.


	2. Is this the Future?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> exploring future london

[Wandering](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G133JtCNYbA) the streets of future London is odd, Tommy thinks. He sees sights familiar yet alien. Traffic conditions are significantly milder, with a severe lack of buses. Is it just him or has their population shrunk considerably? If so, what may have happened that drove people away?

Another thing that bothers Tommy is, though it could be just him, that Wilbur is _repelling_ people. People avoid him like they will a skunk that just farted. The duo is shunned the moment people notice Wilbur’s coat, his characteristic brown coat draped over his yellow sweater.

If Wilbur seems disturbed by the ostracization, he does not show it. He keeps his eyes peeled for any signs of a hotel or inn. Eventually, they do chance upon one. it is not the grandest, but at the very least, it looks decent from the outside.

Was there a hotel here? Tommy does not remember. Then again, this _is_ London ten years in the future.

Wilbur enters the hotel, walking into its lobby. An elderly woman sits behind the counter, scrawling into a file. The one who attends to them is a younger girl, perhaps a chambermaid, wearing a snow-white dress drifting around her ankles.

“Welcome to Hotel Duke! How may we help you?” the woman asks. Her nametag reads Becky. She is a sprightly one, not to mention the first person in a while that has not cast them a suspicious glare or a fearful whimper.

“We’d like a room,” Wilbur says. “For two people with separate beds.”

“A double deluxe suite coming right up.” Becky nods. “Grandma, could you register them, please?”

The elderly woman looks up, shaking the pen gently. “Becky dear, this pen’s out of ink.”

“There should be another one in the drawer, Grandma,” Becky says, loading a set of bedsheets onto her cart. She turns to Wilbur and Tommy. “I’ll be right back. I’ll bring you to the rooms once you’ve registered.”

The elderly woman fishes from the drawer four pens of different colours, frowning.

“Oh dear,” she mumbles. “Which one is it…”

“Is there a problem?” Wilbur asks.

“Well, this _is_ a predicament.” The woman’s mutterings are hardly audible from where Tommy is standing. “I seem to have mixed up the pens. I’m not sure which one is the one with ink.”

“Perhaps we can help,” Wilbur says. “What do you remember of the pen?”

[ ** <Puzzle: Pick the Pen> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SkRBb5IAvKQ&)

“Well, all the four pens have the wrong colour cap at the moment. If you arrange the caps correctly, then all the pens will have one white part.” She hums in an effort to recall. After a meaningful pause, she arranges the pens in a certain order and continues, “The pen with ink is the left on the one that should have the green cap.”

Wilbur stares at the pens for a good moment before holding up the right pen. He uncaps it and hands it to the elderly woman. It works, the dark ink flowing smoothly from the nib. She thanks him with a grateful smile and proceeds to complete their registration.

[Soon,](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G133JtCNYbA) Becky returns. She leads them to their room on the second floor, with an excellent view of Midland Street. Tommy can even see Chinatown from here, with its sinister pagoda reaching for the skies.

“Do ring us up if you need anything,” Becky says. “Or you could approach the front desk.”

With a friendly wave, she traipses back down the stairs. Tommy immediately leaps onto a bed, claiming it for himself. He snuggles into the pillow, meeting Wilbur’s eyes as the latter stands at the door with his arms folded.

“We don’t have time to dilly-dally, Tommy.”

Guess he will just have to soak in the pleasure of a downy mattress later. For now, like what Wilbur said, they should be investigating. He peels himself from the bed and follows his friend back to the lobby. They bid goodbye to the grandmother-granddaughter duo and head back out into the cooling autumn streets of future London.

*

Wilbur and Tommy come to a station, deserted apart from the listless railway officer sitting behind a helpdesk. Wilbur approaches a ticket machine and pays for their train fare to Auckland Lane.

The train’s carriages are mostly empty. Tommy settles down in the middle of the car, unsettled by the sheer lack of people. Wilbur, on the other hand, looks unaffected by the whole phenomenon.

Auckland Lane lies at the very end of the route. Tommy and Wilbur are the last ones to leave, stepping out onto an empty platform. At this point, Tommy is understandably unnerved.

When they emerge aboveground, Tommy notices hospital within their sights. On its wall is a flickering cross, painted a discoloured mauve. Tommy squares his shoulders. Surely what they will encounter cannot be stranger than they’ve already seen.

The hospital’s doors slide open, the sterile scent of medicine wafting from within. A woman sits at the reception desk, purple hair curtaining her shoulders as she stares intently at a piece of paper. She barely even looks up when they arrive.

“Welcome,” she greets in a sultry tone. “You’re Professor Soot, correct?”

Why does everyone seem to know who he is? Wilbur is not even that famous back in their time! It is weird and strange and peculiar. All at once.

“Indeed.”

“Well, I heard that you’d be visiting,” the woman says. She slides over the piece of paper that she was mulling over to them. “And I’ve been told that you need to solve this puzzle before I can tell you anything.”

Is this some series of trials? To put their credibility to the test? How has Tommy’s future self become so distrusting? Or cautious? Tommy did not think that he would grow up to be an extremely cautious man.

Wilbur takes the paper into his hands.

[ ** <Puzzle: Making the Rounds> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SkRBb5IAvKQ&)

“So, a doctor has to visit nine rooms in a certain order,” the woman says, pointing to the illustration on the paper. “Their numbers are: 18, 38, 63, 29, 49, 65, 33, 54 and 71. When checking the room numbers, she realizes that if she always proceeds to a room with at least one digit in common with the room she’s currently in, she can visit all the rooms in one trip.”

“Okay,” Wilbur says, having consolidated the information in seconds. “What am I supposed to find?”

“The fifth room that she visits.”

Wilbur hums. Tommy leans over to peek at the paper, filled with numbers and the chaotic scribbles of a jaded receptionist. How can Wilbur even process the numbers with all these distractions?

“It’s room number sixty-three,” Wilbur says, handing the paper back to her.

“Huh.” The woman’s eyes widen a fraction, before ripping the piece of paper to shreds. “The patient’s ward is two-six-five, the final room at the end of the corridor on your left.”

[Wilbur](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=glZ3GsqH0rw) thanks her. He and Tommy take the stairs to the wards. It is ghostly, these bland, deserted corridors of emerald green. Wilbur mouths the ward numbers, passing by the many rooms before arriving at the very end of the corridor. Number two-six-five.

Just who waits for them behind that door?

There is only one way to find out.

*

Tommy stabs a finger at the man in the bed the moment he enters the room, his reaction considerably bigger than Wilbur’s.

“It’s you!” Tommy cries.

Sam Nook sits in bed, curled up with a thick paperback. He puts it to the side.

“It’s Wilbur! And Little Tommy!” Sam Nook gestures to the stools beside his bed. “What a pleasant surprise.”

“It is,” Wilbur says, nodding. He takes the offered seat. Tommy can hardly contain his surprise. Is this Sam Nook ten years into the future? He does not appear to have changed much. “How have you been, Sam?”

“Not as well as I could have been,” Sam says, shrugging. “I mean, I _am_ in a hospital.”

“Yeah, what’s this about?” Wilbur asks, gaze darting to the bottle on the table containing green fluid. Probably Sam’s medication.

“Well, I’ve come down with an illness,” Sam says, sighing. “My body’s never been very strong, Wilbur.”

Wilbur nods sympathetically.

“So, what brings you here today?” Sam asks, clasping his fingers in front of him. “You haven’t come to visit anymore.”

“I…” Wilbur bites his lip. “I just came on a whim.”

“I see. And Little Tommy’s looking mighty big and healthy.”

“I’m always big,” Tommy mutters. Sam chuckles.

As if a lightbulb has been lit in his head, Sam rummages through his pocket for something.

“I think here’s something you might need, Wilbur. I’ve been keeping it safe for you.”

“What is it?” Wilbur squints at the item that Sam holds out to him: a jangling chain of keys. Tommy recognizes those. That is Wilbur’s keyring, with exactly two keys on it, one of them undoubtedly for that ancient car of his.

Could the other thing that future Tommy wants to show them be…?

“It’s behind the hospital,” Sam says with a smile. “I’m sure it’s been waiting patiently for its beloved owner to return.”

Wilbur stares at the keyring, clearly in shock. Tommy does not blame him.

“I…Thank you, Sam.”

“It’s no problem.”

Sam waves farewell to them as Wilbur and Tommy leave the ward. Tommy was wrong. It _was_ the most peculiar encounter yet.

“Your old man car is parked here.”

Wilbur scrunches his nose up. “Behind the hospital, yes. And it’s not an old man car.”

The hospital’s back door leads to a small field overgrown with creepers and shrubbery, almost entirely reclaimed by nature. Tommy treads over to the relic buried under the greenery, its burgundy body prominent against the dull green of the moss.

Wilbur sticks the key into the keyhole and turns it, unlocking the car. With a grunt, he tugs the door open, a burst of leaves fluttering into Tommy’s face. Wilbur shoves his head in, glancing around before retrieving another envelope from the dashboard.

Why does his future self enjoy these games?

Wilbur rips it open and unfolds the paper stuffed within. He reads its message aloud.

“Dear big man Wilbur,

“I hope Sam Nook is doing well. Now, you should be fully convinced that you are in future London. In light of this revelation, I would like to meet you at the Gilded Seven Casino tonight.

“Yours sincerely, Tommy Innit.”

“The Gilded Seven Casino?” Tommy mumbles. He does not remember having passed by such an establishment on their way here of that sort.

“Perhaps we can ask the hotel staff if they know of the place,” Wilbur says. “Come on, let us head back.”

The car is virtually unusable, merely a display at this point like a work of art. Of ugly art. Wilbur and Tommy head back towards the Underground, trepidation clear in their gait.

They are finally going to meet future Tommy at last. Honestly, Tommy cannot wait to see how he has grown the past ten years. Clearly, he no longer retains much of his brash personality and is instead much more dignified.

Now that Tommy thinks about it, they have heard of Future Tommy and seen Future Sam Nook in the flesh, but Future Wilbur has yet to make an appearance. Neither has Future Tubbo, Future Bad or Future Skeppy. It is exciting to think of the prospect of meeting the future versions of their friends.

In any case, they will have to journey back to Midland Street. They have got inquiries to make, after all.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Puzzles in this Chapter:  
> Pick the Pen  
> Making the Rounds


	3. A Boy Named Tommy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> meeting future tommy

[Flatstone](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G133JtCNYbA) Street, according to Becky, is a stone’s throw from Midland, accessible through a quiet path past many a block of flats. At the mention of the Casino, however, she appeared antsy. It only serves to amplify Tommy’s jittery nerves. Becky’s grandmother graciously provides them with a map, the route to the Casino drawn upon its roads.

Passing by the local park, however, Tommy notices something downright peculiar. A bronze statue stands beside a bench, chiselled in the likeness of a man with a child holding a book. The man bears an uncanny similarity with Wilbur, and the boy with Tommy.

“Hey, Wilbur,” Tommy says, gripping his friend’s wrist to grab his attention. He gestures at the statue, and Wilbur’s curiosity is piqued. They plod over, footsteps clacking against the cobblestone path.

A plaque has been affixed to the statue’s base. “Friendship”, it says. A story accompanies the title. It tells a story of a young boy incapacitated while in the hospital, struck down by a terrible illness. A man who had been a fantasy author had written a book purely for this child’s sake, a far cry from the types of stories he usually writes. He gave it to the boy as a present, and they became good friends. Not long after, while the man had been away on a business trip…the boy died.

“But their friendship remained strong, an unbreakable bond that lives on,” Wilbur reads. “A rather cliché ending, isn’t it?”

“Well…” Tommy mumbles. Cliché as it is, he cannot help but feel a twinge of emotion. Sadness? Longing? An unbreakable bond huh…

“We should go,” Wilbur says, already taking off down a narrow path, passing under an archway formed from bricks. Tommy casts one last look at the statue. He straightens his shoulders – he should not get too emotional now – and continues with Wilbur towards a building that looms in the distance, the waning sunlight wrapping around them like a warm blanket.

*

[The](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NZllgAYyFTo) Gilded Seven Casino is grander than Tommy thought it will be. He has never been inside a gambling den, but the Gilded Seven throws his expectations right out the window. White walls decorated with blinking lights, black roofs providing a comfortable contrast. Expensive cars are parked beside the building: a BMW, a Lamborghini and a Porsche. A fountain right outside the Casino spews water, its base engraved with intricate patterns of the four poker suits.

Night has fallen, stars mere blinking dots in the sky. A blurred moon hides behind stationary clouds. Wilbur walks boldly up to the Casino, where a bouncer waits for them, his ginger hair pulled into a tight ponytail.

“Welcome to the Gilded Seven…” the man starts, only to gasp as recognition dawns on his face. “Boss, is that you?”

Boss?

Wilbur clears his throat. “You must have gotten the wrong man.”

The man scratches his head. “Sorry ‘bout that. These eyes aren’t what they used to be. May I see your membership cards, please?”

Membership cards? Future Tommy had not said anything about membership cards.

“Well, we’re here to meet someone, and he-”

The man tuts. “Well, if you don’t have a membership card, then I’m going to have to ask you to solve this puzzle for me. If you can do it, I’ll let you in.”

Tommy sighs. Another puzzle? Well, it is not like they have a choice.

“Of course.”

The bouncer claps. “Excellent.”

[ ** <Puzzle: The Marked Cup> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nXwm7AVhx_A&)

“You place three cups on the table in a row and secretly marked the middle one. You then ask your friend to hide a coin under one of the cups and switch the places of the other two while you closed your eyes. When you next open them, you find that the cup with the mark has been moved all the way to the right, with the other two unmarked cups to its left. Which cup did you hide the coin under?”

Wilbur has the answer immediately. “The one on the left.”

[The](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NZllgAYyFTo) bouncer nods approvingly, swinging the door open, revealing a lively scene. He ushers Wilbur and Tommy in, shutting the door behind them.

The interior is illuminated by bright fluorescent lighting and dim chandeliers. Rows of slot machines, tables of poker and blackjack and even clacking roulette wheels furnish the floor. Everyone seems to be wearing formal attire, gathered at the various corners of the room. A croupier shakes a cup of dice for a game of craps. Two ladies sit at a bar, partaking in their fancy cocktails.

“Will! Over here!”

Wilbur turns around at the voice, to find a boy standing behind them. His youthful face belies the inquisitiveness in his eyes. Tommy does a double take.

This boy looks like a carbon copy of him, but older. Dressed in his favourite red-and-white raglan shirt with a navy jacket thrown over his shoulders, a cap sitting atop that mop of blond hair. He folds his arms, a knowing smirk on his face.

“An imposter!” Tommy shrieks.

The boy tips his hat. “Welcome to future London, gentlemen.”

This man does not speak like him at all. How much has Tommy grown in ten years? It is scary now that Tommy thinks about it.

“You are…Tommy Innit from the future, am I right?”

“Quite.” Future Tommy nods. “And you must be Wilbur Soot from the past. Or so I’d like to think.”

“What do you mean? We followed your…I mean, my…uh…” Tommy glances up at Wilbur for assistance.

“We followed your letter, Tommy,” Wilbur says, holding out the envelope. “Do you doubt our identities?”

“I’m just saying that I can’t be too sure,” Future Tommy says. “In Future London, there are many people pretending to be you.”

“Why’s that?” Wilbur asks.

Future Tommy shakes his head. “Will, I’m going to need you to pass a test before I can tell you anything more.” He stabs a finger in Wilbur’s direction with the most serious expression on his face. “I challenge you to a battle of the wits.”

Wilbur nods. Tommy can feel the thrill of the game getting to him. While Wilbur may appear composed most of the time, there are a couple of topics that do get him fired up.

And one of them is that of puzzles.

[ ** <Puzzle Battle: vs Future Tommy> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rfqivzjdhd4)

Future Tommy brings them over to an empty poker table and asks to borrow a deck of cards. He lays four cards in a straight line, lying with their backs facing up, on the table. The backs are entirely identical, a golden crown printed on each.

“Now, I would like you to work out which card bears the spade,” Future Tommy says, “using these three conditions:

“One: a heart is next to a diamond  
Two: A club is not next to a spade  
Three: A heart is directly to the right of the club.”

Wilbur nods, finger hovering over the four cards. Without much deliberation, he points to the card on the far right. Future Tommy nods, impressed.

“That’s right,” he says, flipping the card, revealing the ace of spades on its other side. Wilbur reaches for the deck of cards and shuffles it. He picks out another four cards and arranges them in a straight line once more.

“Now it’s my turn to test you,” Wilbur says. “To make sure that you’re the real Tommy Innit.”

“By all means,” Future Tommy says, nodding.

“My conditions for these four cards are these:

“One: A club sits directly to the right of the heart.  
Two: The end card on the far left or far right is a diamond, and next to it is a heart.  
Three: The end card on the far left or far right is a club.”

“Find the spade, hmm?” Future Tommy stares at the row of cards so intently that Tommy believed that he would burn a hole in the table with his gaze alone. Tommy frowns. Is it just him, or…?

“It’s not possible,” Future Tommy says, furrowing his brow. “No matter which card the spade is, I won’t be able to…”

Future Tommy trails off when he catches the smile on Wilbur’s face.

“I never did tell you,” Wilbur says, “that any of the cards here are spades.”

Wilbur flips the cards over, revealing a diamond on the far left and a club on the far right and the two cards in the middle are hearts. Tommy’s jaw drops.

“That’s not fair!”

“No, it is entirely fair,” Future Tommy interrupts.

“But Wilbur-”

“That puzzle had been incomplete,” Wilbur says as matter-of-factly. “You had neglected to mention that the four cards you dealt to me contained one of each suit. And therein lies the real challenge. You wanted to see whether I noticed, didn’t you?”

[Future](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NZllgAYyFTo) Tommy claps, a satisfied smile returning to his face. “Not bad, Wilbur. Looks like you’re just as sharp as ever.” He returns the table to the dealer, who grunts in response. Future Tommy heads towards a steel door at the bottom of a flight of stairs, beckoning them into the small storage room.

“Let’s talk here,” Future Tommy says. He glances around cautiously, as if the walls have ears. Tommy flinches at the overpowering smell of detergent. A mop and a bucket stand at the corner beside several lockers. A rotting wooden bench dampened with moisture sits beneath a small window. Future Tommy shuts the door behind them.

“You have much to explain, Tommy.”

“No, I don’t,” Tommy says, huffing.

“I think this is going to get very confusing,” Future Tommy says. “Why not call me Big Innit and my past self Little Tommy?”

“Excuse me? I’m the big man here.”

“I think that would work,” Wilbur says, ignoring Tommy completely. “So, Big Innit, what the fuck’s going on here?”

“Well,” Future Tommy scratches his head. “Many things. Walking around town, I’m sure you’ve noticed people giving you weird looks.”

“Absolutely. What’s that all about?”

[“We](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LUToNKrxT74) shall start all the way back at the beginning of those whole…charade,” Future Tommy says. “Do you remember the time machine explosion ten years ago? The one that Jacobs was involved in?”

“It had only happened about a week ago for us,” Wilbur says. “There had been a political upheaval.”

“Right.” Future Tommy folds his arms. “Well, in that explosion, Jacobs disappeared along with the Prime Minister. But what if I were to tell you that they didn’t vanish, but are now seeking refuge, or rather, Jacobs is, ten years in the future?”

Tommy narrows his eyes. “Wait, you don’t mean…”

“Jacobs’ intention had been to use that demonstration to throw himself through time, all while taking the Prime Minister with him,” Future Tommy says. “That’s what I gathered from my sources.”

“You called us here to the future in order to find Jacobs. Is that right?” Wilbur asks.

“Well, yes. The only one who can solve this puzzle is you, Wilbur Soot.”

“I hate to say this, gentlemen, but that’s weird,” Tommy says. “What about the Wilbur in your time? Why can’t he help you?”

Future Tommy bites his lip. “That’s…that’s the second thing I need to talk to you about. Having been hurled ten years into the future must have been tough for Jacobs, especially since everything is completely foreign and new to him. Someone must have had sheltered Jacobs as soon as he arrived.”

“No way.” Tommy frowns. “You can’t be-”

“Have you noticed the way the townspeople avoided you?” Future Tommy asks. “And the weird gangsters running around?”

Weird gangsters? The ones in sunglasses and in that tacky grey-and-white getup? Tommy does remember seeing a couple of them loitering about while they made their way around town. As for the townspeople…

“Yes, as much as I hate to admit it,” Wilbur says, swallowing thickly.

“Ten years from your time, Will, you’d be what we call a mad genius. A bitch, if you will,” Future Tommy says. Wilbur turns his nose up at that. Future Tommy cackles lightly. “But seriously, for some reason, you began to distance yourself from me ever since that time machine incident ten years ago, hooked onto the idea of time travel.”

“Me? Time travel?”

“I dunno,” Future Tommy says, tugging unconsciously on a lock of his hair. “I don’t get what’s going through your head half the time, Wilbur. You became obsessed with it and decided to help Jacobs with his time machine.”

“That’s absurd.”

“It doesn’t matter how unbelievable something is. What matters is if it happened,” Future Tommy says grimly. “You’ve always been a smart man, Wilbur, and you realized that Jacobs needed money for his project. That’s when you began to fraternize with the criminal underworld. With all the gangs, Wilbur.”

“I…What?”

“Using your brains, you went and took over gangs and combined them into one: the Family,” Future Tommy says. “Now you’re ruling over London with an iron fist.”

“Let me get this straight. Wilbur ten years from now becomes a madman who’s obsessed with time travel. And now he’s leading gangs,” Tommy says, folding his arms.

“Essentially so,” Future Tommy says. “Those people in the fedoras and ties that you saw? They’re the Family goons who go around extorting people, stealing, and…uh…running gambling dens.”

Wilbur frowns. “Like casinos.”

“Like casinos,” Future Tommy agrees. “This casino is owned by the Family, by the way.”

“There could be Family goons out there right now?” Tommy asks, alarmed. Future Tommy nods.

“And I’m going to need your help in stopping your future self, Wilbur,” Future Tommy says. “That’s why I called you here from the past. If there’s anyone who can stop yourself, it’s you.”

“That’s…okay.” Wilbur says, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Okay. This is a lot to take in. I’d like you to know that.”

“Ten years can change people,” Future Tommy says. “Now that I’ve given you the brief run-down of the situation, I think it’s time we leave this place. We don’t know who might be listening, after all.”

Future Tommy exits first, leading the duo out into the main chamber. The scene has not changed much – guests are still betting their life away, chips clattering noisily onto the tables. However, the trio has not even crossed half the room when a deep voice calls from behind them. 

[“Hey!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6cwEnCZP3E4) Boss!”

Tommy spins on his heels to find a man with the ugliest mug standing with a group of henchmen. Tommy gulps. Their sheer numbers are intimidating by themselves, but each member holds something that makes him stiffen in fear.

They are all wielding firearms. Guns. Real ones, with sleek metal bodies that glint in the dazzling lights of the casino. The barrels are aimed at the three of them, prepared to fire upon command.

“Wait, you’re not the boss!” the man hollers. “Why are you wearing the boss’ coat, huh?”

Are these the Family’s grunts? Future Tommy _did_ say that Future Wilbur is the boss of the Family…

Wilbur steps between Tommy and the goons. “I’m not your boss, you pricks. Can’t you tell your boss from a stranger?”

“Who the hell are you to be calling us pricks?” The man cries, enraged. Tommy can almost see the faint clouds of steam erupting from his ears. “I’ll teach you, imposter! Men! Fire!”

[The](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ORSfTqak9J8) onlookers burst into terrified shrieks and screams as the Family goons begin to shoot. Bullets ricochet off the slot machines, tearing into the carpet and the wallpapers, searing holes in the poker tables. Wilbur grabs Tommy’s hand and drags him behind a slot machine, out of the range of the hail of bullets.

“That guy’s crazy!” Tommy whispers. He stifles a yelp as a bullet slams into a piece of slot machine, knocking its lever clean off. The piece of metal clangs to the ground. Wilbur’s eyes lock onto it for a mere second, the gears turning in his head.

Tommy notices another shape crouched behind another row of slot machines.

“Stay put here, Tommy. I’ll come get you later,” Wilbur says.

Before Tommy can respond, Wilbur darts from their slot machine to the one that Future Tommy is hiding behind. Another broken part of a slot machine lands beside them, and Wilbur scoops it up, clutching it tightly between his fingers.

“The chips,” Wilbur says. “You get the chips. I’ll assemble it.”

Future Tommy nods, and the duo hop off in different directions. A bullet hits the ground right where Tommy is hiding, the pellet looking particularly intimidating even as it lies stationary, squashed by the impact. What are Wilbur and his future self doing? They seem to understand each other, even without words.

_An unbreakable bond_ _…_ Those words float to the forefront of Tommy’s mind. Can this be his dynamic with Wilbur in ten years’ time? Being able to communicate even without the need for speech?

“There you are!”

Tommy’s head snaps up to find that burly man in the suit, a gun aimed at Wilbur’s head. Wilbur barely has time to raise his head, the man cocking the gun with a finger on the trigger…

Wilbur’s going to die.

Future Tommy is nowhere to be seen, having embarked on whatever task he set out to do. There is no one around to help.

Tommy must do something. He is the only one who can.

Mustering all his strength, Tommy lunges at the man with a battle cry. The man yells as Tommy slams his entire body into him, the both of them tumbling into a poker table. Chips and cards scatter everywhere.

“Tommy!” Wilbur grasps his hand, pulling Tommy to his feet and away from the burly man. Tommy stumbles behind Wilbur, the man headed for a device that he has cobbled together from mismatched parts of the slot machines. Future Tommy emerges from behind another row of the things, a bowl full of chips in hand.

Wilbur loads up the device and Future Tommy pours the entire bowl of chips into its chamber. Tommy remains safely by Wilbur’s side as the latter proceeds to empty the entire magazine of chips at the Family goons. The chips explode like fireworks, the slot machine gun whirring and wincing with strained effort.

One by one, the Family goons are driven back, no match for the relentless storm. Their leader picks himself up, raising his arms in a pathetic attempt to defend himself from the battery.

“I’ll remember this!” he shouts, sprinting for the door. “Just you wait!”

[Wilbur](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NZllgAYyFTo&) switches the gun off as soon as the last goon is gone. While they may have left the casino in a mess, no one is injured. Although the casino must have just suffered a wealth of losses, there is nothing else they could have really done, anyway.

“We make a good team,” Future Tommy says, hands on his hips. Wilbur places the machine gun by the bar’s counter, nodding with a smile.

“We do.”

“Hey, I helped too. Why are you leaving me out?” Tommy folds his arms sullenly.

Wilbur ruffles his hair. “You’re right. If not for you, I don’t think I would be alive right now. Come on now. Let’s hurry on out of here.”

A cool evening breeze zips by them as the trio steps out into the chill. The sky is darker than before, the moon hovering behind the clouds. The stars have come out.

“Who _was_ that?” Tommy asks. That man was frightening, standing a head taller than Tommy, and Tommy had always assumed that he was quite tall for his age.

“Bostro,” Future Tommy says, scrunching his nose up. “He’s one of the more powerful members of the Family. Wilbur’s – I mean, _Future Wilbur_ _’_ _s_ – right hand man. He’s not that bright, but his brawn is enough to win a fair fight.”

“He was a scary fellow,” Wilbur agrees.

Future Tommy glances up at the sky. “It’s getting very late. I presume you’ve made accommodations for the night.”

“We have. At Midland Street.”

Future Tommy beams. “Looks like we’ll be going the same way, then.” He holds up a fist. “It’s nice to have you back, Professor.”

Wilbur bumps his fist against Future Tommy’s, and once more, a simmering sense of jealousy bubbles up Tommy’s chest. It is strange to be jealous of your future self, but when he is occupying more of Wilbur’s attention than the present Tommy…

Even so, Tommy cannot quite imagine himself being estranged from Wilbur. To drift apart one day from his best friend as the latter became more consumed by his madness…

Tommy shivers. What did Future Tommy feel all these years? Guilt that he could not save Wilbur from himself? Anger at his best friend’s sudden change of heart?

He wishes to the stars above that that would never happen. Not to him and Wilbur. They have gone on so many adventures, shared so many joys and sorrows, ups and downs. If their friendship met that fate, then he would not know what it would do to his heart.

“Tommy? Are you alright?”

Wilbur and Future Tommy have already walked a fair distance. Tommy had been so absorbed in his thoughts that he did not notice. He mutters an apology, keeping his eyes on the ground.

It is not quite like him to be so melancholy and reflective. A pair of shoes appear in his line of sight, the back of a hand pressing against his forehead. 

“I’m not sick, Wilbur.”

“Well, you sure look the part,” Wilbur says, frowning. “Is there something on your mind?”

“No,” Tommy says resolutely. “I’m tired, Wilbur. And hungry. Can we get some dinner on the way back?”

“I recall seeing a diner near the hotel. Shall we head there?”

Tommy nods. The idea of sitting in a warm restaurant, at a table filled with delicious food, out of the bite of the cold, distracts him from his emotional turmoil. He catches up to Wilbur and Future Tommy as they head back down the winding path, making for Midland Street.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Puzzles in this Chapter:   
> The Marked Cup  
> Puzzle Battle vs Future Tommy


	4. An Enigmatic Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To Chinatown

[“I need](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=glZ3GsqH0rw) to meet Shipley, so I’m going to have to leave you for now,” Future Tommy said. He turned to Wilbur. “Future Wilbur made his base at the Towering Pagoda.”

“The Towering Pagoda?”

“At the northernmost part of Chinatown,” Future Tommy said. “We should scout out the area first. It’s bound to be heavily-guarded, so we’re going to need to split up to see whether we can find other ways in.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Wilbur said, nodding. “How do we get to Chinatown?”

“You know that park near the Gilded Seven?” Future Tommy adjusts his hat, trying to smooth his unruly hair. “Take a right and head up the stairs. Just follow the path past the Thames.”

The River Thames! Now that is a place that Tommy would recognize. A long, cascading river running straight through London. One does not simply miss it. Bidding them a farewell, Future Tommy left them to their devices.

Following that exchange, Tommy and Wilbur end up strolling down a dirt path by the River Thames early in the morning. The leaves remain strangely stationary overhead, water flowing peacefully by them. A quaint house stands at the riverbank on a simple boardwalk; it is not particularly impressive. On a small island in the middle of the river is a black lighthouse, all dull now that it is daytime.

“Why’d there be a lighthouse there?” Wilbur wonders.

“Is it strange?”

“There aren’t any ships,” Wilbur says, gesturing to the waters. As far as Tommy’s eye can see, there is a severe lack of vessels bobbing in the river. “I don’t see why anyone would want to build a lighthouse here. It’s a waste of resources.”

Tommy shrugs. Wilbur does complain about the weirdest things sometimes. The London they are in is no longer the London they know, so changes to infrastructure should not come as a surprise. “Rich people do rich people things, Wilbur.”

As they come to a bridge, Wilbur notices a man leaning against the railing, resting his chin on a palm as he stares at his watch, looking troubled. He wears a lab coat, its hem soaked through. He has left a wet trail of footprints across the dark wood of the bridge. What a sleazy fellow.

Tommy pays him no mind as he hikes up the garden trail winding past a forest of sorts. Noticing the lack of a presence behind him, Tommy whirls around, to find Wilbur speaking with that man. How rude. He did not even bother calling out to him.

Tommy stalks over.

“It’s from your workplace, you say?” Tommy catches Wilbur’s voice. The man nods meekly. “Do you work underground?”

“Oh, no. It’s…it’s just near the river. That’s all,” the man says, fidgeting restlessly.

“I see. Well, I hope you meet with your friend soon,” Wilbur says. With a careless wave, he bids the man goodbye and joins Tommy on the mossy track.

“What was that about?” Tommy asks.

“He was supposed to meet with his friend here and asked me whether I’d seen him,” Wilbur says. “Man in a lab coat, same as his.”

“Weird outfit he’s wearing. Is he a scientist?”

“Probably.”

[The](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TOBxJS6W4T0) mossy trail ends shortly, delivering the duo to the entrance of the reddest street that Tommy has ever been to. The buildings are all made of bricks, windows and doors framed with splashes of gold and red. Shop signs hang from walls and tiny awnings. The aroma of food and incense burns strong in the air. The road is paved with concrete, wide enough for vehicles to roll on by.

This may have made for a pleasant walk if not for the fact that they are here to confront Wilbur’s future self. The Towering Pagoda, a building that Tommy has never seen before, stands in the heart of an industrial area at the northernmost part of the city.

The streets are hardly deserted, with people all rushing to and fro. A man with a walking stick hobbles past, a girl hugging a crate of fruits in her arms jogs by and a woman with blond hair ducks her head as she hurries on.

Tommy jolts when Wilbur pauses, the latter’s head swivelling so fast on his neck Tommy fears that it may snap clean off. The shock on his face as Wilbur stands rooted to the spot is unlike anything Tommy has ever seen. Eyes wide, jaw agape…

*

[ _“_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W7f-kOoXhbI&) _[Oh,](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W7f-kOoXhbI&) this would look perfect on you._ _”_

_“_ _You think?_ _”_ _Wilbur mumbles, tugging on the coat self-consciously. Tan with splotches of brown. It is Niki_ _’_ _s way of saying thanks for that pocket watch he gave her._

_“_ _Yeah,_ _”_ _Fundy says, dressed in his usual black jacket, courtesy of Niki as well._ _“_ _I mean, it_ _’_ _s_ _…_ _not as weird as your other clothes._ _”_

_“_ _What_ _’_ _s that supposed to mean?_ _”_ _Wilbur narrows his eyes. Niki chuckles. She glances at her watch_ _–_ _the pocket watch, Wilbur notices_ _–_ _and gasps._

_“_ _Oh no,_ _”_ _Niki says, grabbing her handbag and slinging the strap over her shoulders._ _“_ _I_ _’_ _ve got to get going. It_ _’_ _s almost time for the demonstration._ _”_

_Fundy sighs._ _“_ _What a waste of time. It_ _’_ _s not like time travel_ _’_ _s possible._ _”_

_Niki chuckles._ _“_ _Maybe not, but it never hurts to try. Besides, I promised Karl._ _”_

_Niki leaves them, jogging down the stone path, headed for the Faculty of Science. Wilbur looks up at Fundy._

_“_ _She has strange taste,_ _”_ _Fundy says, whistling._

_Wilbur looks down at his own coat. He does not know how often he is going to wear it, but it_ is _cosy. Maybe on cold winter mornings when he is headed for class._

*

[“Wilbur?](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TOBxJS6W4T0) What’s wrong?”

Without a word, Wilbur sprints down the path. Tommy makes after him, shoes thundering against the brick path. Wilbur squeezes between two buildings, stopping at a junction, a crossroads of dirty alleyways, bits of newspapers and empty bottles strewn about.

Wilbur’s shoulders are hunched, breaths quick, gaze darting down the branching alleys. Tommy tugs on his sleeve.

“Wilbur, stop ignoring me!”

Wilbur mutters something to himself, a troubled expression on his face. Tommy drags him in the direction of the main street. A man they had nearly bumped into earlier during their chase gives them a funny look.

“What was that about?” Tommy asks.

Wilbur’s gaze is still on the alleyway, so intense that Tommy believes he may start shooting laser beams from his eyes soon. After what seems like forever, Wilbur shakes his head.

“It was…nothing. I thought I saw someone I knew,” Wilbur says. He jerks his chin at the Pagoda. “Come on, Tommy. Let us make haste.”

“I wasn’t the one chasing after some random girl. Women flock to me, Wilbur.”

Wilbur merely gives him a half-hearted smile.

As they near the Pagoda, Tommy spots a familiar figure waiting for them, his back to a stained wall and on his phone. Future Tommy lifts his head and stuffs the device into his pocket upon noticing their arrival.

“Glad to see you made it,” Future Tommy says. “I’ve already done some preliminary investigations of the Pagoda. Unfortunately, I can’t seem to find any weak spots in their defences.”

“Are the Family grunts guarding all the entrances?” Wilbur asks.

Future Tommy shakes his head. “It would be simple case of creating a diversion if that’s the case. What I mean to say is that there’s only one gate – the entire Pagoda is surrounded by smooth walls that we can’t scale, and the main entrance is manned by two of Future Wilbur’s higher-ranking men.”

“How about we use a grappling hook and rope?” Tommy asks. “Some good old spy movie shit.”

“And where would you get those?” Future Tommy smirks, folding his arms. “Besides, goons would be upon us before we can even begin to execute that plan.”

Tommy sniffs. Why does his future self make him feel inferior? Tommy does not like feeling inferior.

“Are they the higher-ranking men?” Wilbur asks, gesturing at a duo standing imposingly by a large metal gate with red indication lights blinking above their heads. They look intimidating, though Tommy seems to recall having seen them before…

“Is it just me or do they look like someone we know?” Tommy asks, squinting. Both of them are of similar stature, but one of them wears a black hoodie with white at the edges and the other is dressed in a scarlet sweater and trousers.

“You’re probably thinking of Inspector Halo and his assistant,” Wilbur says.

“Yeah…” Future Tommy grins. “They do look like them.”

“So Future Bad and Future Skeppy are bad guys?” Tommy asks.

“They may look similar, but they’re different people,” Future Tommy says. “Now that I think about it, I haven’t seen either of them for a long time now.”

“Well, there’s no way they’re going to let us enter without a confrontation, and I’d prefer to avoid that,” Wilbur says, rubbing his chin. “Tommies, there’s something I-”

“Did you just call us Tommies?” Tommy cuts him off, sounding offended. Someone please tell him that Wilbur did _not_ just group the two of them together? Future Tommy is trying his hardest not to crack up as well.

Wilbur blinks. “Shut up, children. As I was saying, I’d like to ask if it is possible to get back to our time. I am suddenly reminded that there are some questions I’d like to ask Inspector Halo about.”

“Well, Spring and Cogg should be able to take you back,” Future Tommy says. “They’re associates of mine.”

“Excellent.”

“What do you want to ask them, Wilbur?” Tommy asks, intrigued.

“Something personal,” Wilbur says dismissively. “Big Innit, is it possible to stay here and keep watch over the area? I’d like you to note when the guards change shifts.”

“Can do,” Future Tommy says. “Do you need my help finding your way back?”

“It’s fine. We can handle it. Come on, Tommy. Back to the present we go.”

“Remember: three knocks after the puzzle!” Future Tommy calls as Wilbur and Tommy leave, heading back down the path they came and leaving Chinatown.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NO Puzzles in this Chapter!


	5. Back to the Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> heading back to the present

[“What’s](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=glZ3GsqH0rw&) this?”

Tommy notices a crinkled slip of paper stuck to the door, a picture printed on it accompanied by a paragraph of words. A pen dangles from the doorknob. He wrinkles his nose. Is it what he thinks it is?

“Three knocks after the puzzle, was what Big Innit said,” Wilbur says. He cups his nose and mouth, bending forward to get a better look at it. “I think we’re going to have to solve it if we want to head back to the present.”

Tommy sighs. Of course. Well, there is no time like the present to engage in some good old puzzle-solving.

[ ** <Puzzle: Double Digits> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nXwm7AVhx_A&)

[ ](https://layton.fandom.com/wiki/Puzzle:Double_Digits?file=UF143.gif)

“‘The board as shown can be cut in a way that produces two identical number-shaped pieces. Where should you cut the board? You can only cut along the dotted lines. Slip the paper under the door when you’re done.’,” Tommy reads.

Wilbur pens his answer on the paper. He knocks thrice and slips it through the gap between the door and floor. A minute passes and the door clicks open, allowing them passage into the house.

[Tommy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=glZ3GsqH0rw&) and Wilbur are, once again, surrounded by the constant ticking of clocks. Tommy jump in fright at the sudden caw of a cuckoo bird.

“Welcome back,” Spring says, tosses a ball of paper into the bin behind the counter. She flashes them a smile. “What do you think of the future?”

“It’s…much more different than what I expected,” Wilbur says. “It’s regretful how deplorable of a condition London has sunk to.”

“I agree,” Spring says gravely. She makes a sweeping gesture at Cogg, who appears to be working on the massive clock that stands at the back of the shop. “Cogg is just adjusting a few screws here and there. We’d be able to take you back to your own time soon.”

Thankfully, the repairs do not take long. Within minutes, Cogg and Spring activate the time machine again with the same sort of convoluted lever pulling and button pressing. The store rumbles and a force pulls Tommy against the ground. He stumbles when the store jerks to a halt.

Tommy wonders how the shop must look like the ignorant. Disappeared without a trace as it is sent hurtling through time at Spring and Cogg’s whims, leaving naught but blank space in its place.

“Well now, you have fun,” Spring says, bidding them a farewell. “We’ll be waiting right here when you’re ready to go back!”

[Wilbur](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MuSmUI25Ulw) thanks them and he and Tommy once more dive into the streets of London that they know all too well. The familiar buildings and roads are sights for sore eyes, relishing in the explosive roar of engines as cars and buses rush by them on the main road at ten in the morning in their ears. Future London had been way quieter.

“Where are we going, Wilbur?” Tommy asks.

“I need to retrieve something from my office first,” Wilbur says. “Then, we’ll head down to Scotland Yard to consult with Inspector Halo.”

Tommy has not been back to the office in a while. He misses the faint smell of old, crumbly books, the messiness of the papers and stationery strewn over his desk, Wilbur’s old coat draped over the rolling chair…It is already so old. Why doesn’t Wilbur go and get a new one?

The duo waits at the nearest bus stop for the bus that would take them to Gressenheller University, the institution that Wilbur works at. All the while, his friend was in a state of reflection, eyes glazed and pensive as he ponders an invisible mystery.

The bus arrives soon, the massive crimson vehicle slowing to a stop in front of them. A stream of commuters alight. Wilbur and Tommy manage to find seats on the second floor of the double decker bus. Tommy leans against the window, watching as the London streets morph into a blur as the bus moves off.

He cannot imagine London becoming so dead in the future, devoid of the life that makes London… _London_. If Wilbur’s descent into madness is what brings ruin to his beloved city, then they must do all they can to prevent that.

*

“Dean Delmona!”

When Wilbur strides through the glass double doors of the university, Tommy sure did not expect to bump into the dean himself. The dean’s orange suit stands out amongst the green-and-white of the checkerboard floor and floral wallpaper. His brown hair tumbles over his head. Wilbur has told him once that the dean merely wears a wig, and that his head is bald through and through.

“Professor Soot!” Delmona exclaims, sounding frazzled.

“What seems to be the problem?”

“It’s a grave tragedy.” Delmona wrings his hands. “You are a puzzle master, correct?”

Oh no, Tommy thinks. He knows exactly what is coming.

“I…do pride myself on that.” Even Wilbur sounds defeated. Tommy wonders if Delmona noticed.

“Professor Soot, there’s been a problem on my mind recently,” Delmona says. “It’s just the tinniest of issues, but it was my granddaughter who gave me this puzzle and it would be mighty embarrassing if I can’t solve it.”

Which he cannot, Tommy thinks. The old man should work his brain some more. Train it up like a muscle.

“Lay it on me, Dean Delmona.”

[ ** <Puzzle: From A to D> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SkRBb5IAvKQ)

“A train runs along a straight railway with no branches, with four stations and differing distances between each one. It takes fifteen minutes to travel from station A, the first stop on the line, to B. It takes five minutes to travel from B to C. It takes ten minutes to travel from station C to the last stop on the line, D. However, it does not take thirty minutes to travel from station A to D. How many minutes does it actually take?”

“Well, it’s a little heavy on the visualisation side, but the answer is twenty.”

Wilbur explains his reasoning, and Dean Delmona nods. Tommy wonders if he actually understood the solution. Tommy himself would never have thought of it in a million years.

[“Thank](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MuSmUI25Ulw) you so much, Professor Soot,” Dean Delmona says. He wishes them a good day and leaves, allowing Wilbur to enter his office. Tommy wonders if Dean Delmona had been lying in wait like a predator in the bushes.

As soon as they step through the doorway, Wilbur and Tommy are met with a boy seated on the couch, a thick tome in hand. He looks up as soon as they arrive, the most dissatisfied expression on his face.

“What are you doing here?” Tommy asks incredulously.

“Me? You’re asking _me_!” Tubbo exclaims. He closes the book and places it on the table. “Where the hell were you and Wilbur?”

“Well…” Tommy is at loss for words.

During their last adventure, Tubbo had taken it upon himself to accompany them on their dangerous mission, if only to get left behind in the quiet town of Dropstone.

“You left me all alone again!” Tubbo huffs, arms folded. “This is the second time since…since you get to go on all these grand adventures.”

“We’re sorry, Tubbo, but…” Wilbur starts, but Tubbo sinks back into the couch, cheeks puffed out and eyes glimmering. Guilt sinks to the bottom of Tommy’s stomach like a boulder. It hurts to see Tubbo like this, all despondent when he is the one picking everyone’s spirits up when they’re feeling down.

“Maybe he can come with us, eh?” Tommy says, nudging Wilbur’s elbow, eyes darting to the door. “Tubbo, since we’re back, do you mind fetching us some tea?”

“And you’ll let me come along?” Tubbo asks, hope glinting in his eyes.

“Of course,” Wilbur says, as genuinely as he can. Wilbur has always been a convincing actor.

Happy as a lark, Tubbo bounds over to the back of the office where the kettle is, and Wilbur makes a beeline for his desk. He pulls open a drawer and retrieves a leatherbound book. Tommy is already waiting for him outside the office, the pounding of his heart roaring in his ears.

Wilbur rushes out, the book tucked safely in the pocket of his coat, and Tommy shuts the door as quietly as he can behind him. They cannot expose Tubbo to that kind of danger, especially with all those Family goons running around in future London.

“To the Yard, Wilbur?”

Wilbur nods. “To the Yard.”

*

The bus pulls up to the stop outside the imposing police building. A constable stands on guard, dressed smartly in his uniform. He stops them, standing in the stiffest of poses.

“Halt. Please state your business.”

Wilbur blinks. “I never needed to state my business before.”

“New policy.”

“Well, I’d like to meet with Inspector Halo. Is he around?”

The policeman nods. “I should think so, but you have to solve this puzzle first. It’s only protocol.”

Even the police station has puzzles now? As indignant as Tommy may be, he dares not speak up against a policeman. Juvenile hall is not where he wants to spend the rest of his teenage years.

[ ** <Puzzle: Back and Forth> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SkRBb5IAvKQ&)

“From here, a one-way trip to your destination takes an hour. The plan for the trip was to divide twelve people into two six-seater cars, but one of the cars broke down, so you can only use the other one.

“Assuming that the journey back takes the same amount of time as the journey here, how many hours will it take to get all twelve people to your destination using one car?”

“Five hours,” Wilbur says without missing a beat. Was he doing the calculations while the officer was still speaking?

[The](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=glZ3GsqH0rw) policeman claps, delighted. “That’s absolutely correct. Come on in, Professor.”

It could be just Tommy, but with the way the policeman is visibly trembling, the puzzle might not be part of protocol after all. This guy is just one of Wilbur’s fans.

“Inspector Halo’s office is right up this flight of stairs. Take a right and it’s all the way at the end.” The policeman salutes them and practically prances away.

“Weird fellow,” Wilbur says.

“You don’t say.”

They climb the stairs two at a time, heading up to the second floor.

In no time at all, they find Bad’s office, his name engraved on a plate affixed to the wall. Wilbur knocks and waits for a response. The one who opens the door is none other than Skeppy, the sleepiest expression on his face. Has he been snoozing on the job?

“What are you guys doing here?” Skeppy rubs at his eyes and yawns.

Totally unprofessional. Tommy thinks. Tommy wishes to _not_ be like Skeppy when he gets older.

“We came to see Inspector Halo. Is he around?”

“Oh. Bad? Yeah, no, he’s out.”

“I’m right here, Skeppy! Stop telling people I’m out!”

Skeppy laughs and the door swings open fully, revealing Bad sitting at his desk, a pen poised in hand. The rest of the office is messy as messy can be, jackets and hats strewn everywhere, multiple files lying all over the coffee table. A cup of Starbucks coffee stands dangerously close to those poor documents. Skeppy plops himself in front of those documents. Figures.

“What do you need, Mr Soot and um…” Bad squints. “Mr Innit?”

At least he remembers Tommy’s name.

“Is there any way we can have a look at records of old cases?” Wilbur asks. “Say, from five years ago?”

Bad hums. “Why do you want to see a case that old? Which is it?”

“It’s…” Wilbur looks almost pained as he says this. “The one about the explosion at the interdimensional lab.”

Bad freezes. “Why would you want to know about that one?”

What explosion? Tommy does not know about any explosion. What does this have anything to do with the future?

“I’m not sure if you’ll believe us on this, Inspector, but Tommy and I have actually…been to the future.”

“The future? Are you crazy?” Bad shakes his head, speaking slowly. “Of all people, I expected you to be the most down-to-earth, Mr Soot.”

“I refused to believe that time travel was possible till I experienced it for myself,” Wilbur says. It is only now that Tommy realizes just how much of a lunatic they sound when Wilbur puts it that way. “Moreover, I have learned that Bill Hawks is held captive in the future.”

“Mr Soot, you’re making outrageous claims…”

“It is true, Inspector, and I would not make an outrageous claim without confidence.”

Disbelief is evident on Bad’s face. However, he reaches over to his chair and grabs his coat. He throws it on and shoos them out. “Skeppy, I’ll be gone for a while. Watch my office.”

“Where are you going?”

“Records.”

Skeppy flashes him a thumbs-up and Bad leads the duo down the hallway, headed down the staircase, to the basement. The basement is a single, lengthy corridor that leads to a door at the very end, past numerous threads of dangling spiderwebs and a series of drainage pipes.

Bad taps his identification card against the reader, opening the door with a click. The trio is greeted with the stale air of paper and wood. Tommy sneezes.

“Do you want to stay out here?” Wilbur asks, apparently having no problems with the sheer amounts of dust.

“Will you take long?”

“I doubt it.”

Tommy opts to remain outside of the Records Room. Bad accompanies Wilbur inside. Tommy leans against the wall briefly before noticing a spider – or devil legs, as Tubbo calls them – jumping up the wall. He bites back a screech, leaping away from it, nearly stepping on a beetle that scuttles past his legs.

Just as Tommy begins to wonder whether invasive dust or creepy bugs is the lesser evil, someone plods down the stairs, cyan jacket thrown over his officer’s uniform. Relief floods through Tommy.

Skeppy raises a hand. “Yo. I got bored, so I came along.”

“Is it always this pissy down here?”

“Yeah. Which is why I prefer to stay upstairs. Unless I get super bored.”

Tommy can understand that. If he worked here, he would not want to venture down to the basement much either.

“Being the Professor’s assistant, you probably like puzzles, huh?”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Really? Maybe it’s because you’re dumb.”

Tommy bristles at that. “What did you just call me?”

“A dumbass. Dumb idiot.”

“Okay, you prick. You got a puzzle? I’ll solve it so fast I’m gonna blow your socks off.”

Skeppy grins. “Oh, do I ever.”

[ ** <Puzzle: Cookie Conundrum> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SkRBb5IAvKQ&)

“So, you have fifteen biscuits to share with a lot of people. The first person east one biscuit and then passes two equal shares of the remaining biscuits to two other people. They both eat a biscuit and both pass two equal shares of their remaining biscuits to two other people.

“This continues until all the biscuits are gone.

“It takes one minute to eat a biscuit. Ignoring the time it takes to pass them, what’s the shortest amount of time it would take for all the biscuits to be eaten?”

“Oh, I hate math,” Tommy mutters. “I hate maths so much.”

“You’re gonna give up?”

Competitive spirit burns within Tommy’s chest. “No. I’m going to solve it and prove your ass wrong. Stop being so impatient, you dick.”

“Oh, so I’m the dick now.”

“Shut your mouth, you wanker.”

[By](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=glZ3GsqH0rw&) the time Wilbur has stepped out of the Records Room, Tommy is still going through the numbers in his head, gaze on the ceiling, counting to himself. Skeppy hums tunelessly.

“What are you doing here?” Bad asks indignantly. “I thought I told you to watch my office!”

“Bored,” Skeppy says. “Paperwork isn’t fun.”

“You still need to do them,” Bad says, frowning. “Come on, Skeppy, we’re going to the future.”

“What?” Tommy cries, voice echoing in the tunnel. He turns to Skeppy. “The answer’s four, by the way.” He glances back at Wilbur, who appears to be just as shocked as he is.

“Inspector, I’m not sure this is the best course of action…” Wilbur begins unsurely.

“I’ve just let you access a confidential file, Mr Soot,” Bad says. “I expect some compensation.”

“We’ll inform you of the outcome of the case when we get to the bottom of it,” Wilbur says firmly. “You’ll be the first to know, Inspector.” Without waiting for Bad’s response, he begins making his way back down the damp corridor. “Come on, Tommy. We have to go. Big Innit is waiting for us.”

Without further ado, Wilbur and Tommy catch the first cab they can find. They dodged two bullets ever since returning to their time, though Tommy still is not sure how.

The taxi rushes down the road. Tommy leans against the window, eyes shielded from the sun scorching above their heads, headed directly for the clock shop on Midland Street.

*

When Tommy alights from the cab, his jaw drops. Sitting at the bus stop right by the narrow alley that leads to the clock shop is…Tubbo. Tubbo whose eyes blaze with unconcealed anger, body absolutely tensed.

“What are you doing here? I thought we-”

“You left me again! You left me even after you said you wouldn’t!”

Tubbo is looking so absolutely seething, like he is on the verge of giving them the cold shoulder. Tommy shuffles his feet, not quite certain what to say. Even Wilbur seems to be at a loss.

“Well, there’s only one thing you can do for me to forgive you,” Tubbo says huffily, arms crossed. “And that’s if you let me come along.”

Tommy can see the apprehension in Wilbur’s eyes. During the short time they have been in future London, they have learned that the future Wilbur is an absolute dickhead, they had gotten shot at and now they are going to have to infiltrate the Pagoda crawling with Family goons. It is undoubtedly going to be dangerous, but they cannot send Tubbo away now anyway.

“I suppose you can,” Wilbur says, sighing. “But you must promise to stick close to us.”

Tubbo nods. The frustration slowly ebbs from his expression, but Tommy is not naïve. From the way he really _does_ stick close to them, the suspicion lingers.

Just as the three of them are about to head down the alley, the sound of an engine behind them has Tommy turning around. A police car is parked by the side of the road, with Bad and Skeppy climbing out.

“Inspector! What are you doing here?” Wilbur asks.

“We tailed you,” Bad says, shrugging. “Look, Mr Soot, I’m not giving up on seeing this future London for myself.”

“Future London? We’re going time travelling?” Tubbo asks, jaw dropping.

Wilbur glances from one face to another. Completely subdued, he beckons them with a wave of his hand. “Yes. Yes, we are. This way.”

What will Spring and Cogg would say about this unexpected situation? Tommy hopes that they will not get mad. When the group reaches the end of the road, they come to the clock shop, the giant timepiece above its entrance ticking away.

Another piece of paper and a pen is pinned on the door. Seriously, do Spring and Cogg have nothing else to do with their lives?

“Can I try?” Tubbo asks, eyes lighting up at the puzzle written upon it.

“By all means,” Wilbur says, handing him the paper.

[ ** <Puzzle: Find the Clock Tower> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SkRBb5IAvKQ&)

Lost in an unfamiliar town, you ask a passer-by for directions to the clock tower. He helpfully tells you:

“Go straight from here, then turn left at the first corner, turn right at the next corner, then turn left at the next corner and it’ll be in front of you.”

Assuming that you start from somewhere on the map above, where is the clock tower from the spots A to H?

“It’s H,” Tubbo says, circling the alphabet. He hands the paper back to Wilbur, who knocks thrice upon the door and slips it through the gap beneath. A minute passes and Spring opens the door.

[She](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=glZ3GsqH0rw&) gasps softly, a warm smile on her face. “What a lively group you’ve got there.”

“They’ve decided to tag along, if that’s alright with you,” Wilbur says.

“Of course, of course,” Spring says, welcoming them in with a sweeping gesture. “Come on in. Ready yourselves for a wild ride, though.”

The five of them file into the shop. Cogg is already standing by the buttons, and Spring hobbles up to the lever. They activate the time machine again, the entire shop quaking.

No matter how many times Tommy travels through time, he would probably never get used to the constriction of his stomach, the way it turns inside out. When the shop clunks to a stop, Tubbo almost topples over, and he would have if Bad was not there to steady him.

“We’ve arrived,” Cogg says, folding his arms. “Go on now. I’m sure you’ve got some business to do here.”

[Wilbur](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G133JtCNYbA) and Tommy head out of the store, finding themselves again in future London. Tubbo can only regard the place in wonder, glowing as he plods on after them. Meanwhile, Bad and Skeppy are expectedly confused, trying to make sense of the world around them.

“This is…What is this?” Bad cries, following Wilbur. “How did we-”

“I didn’t believe it either when I first heard about it. Not until we arrived,” Wilbur says.

“You were here before?” Skeppy asks.

“Yeah,” Tommy says. “For a day or so.”

“And you didn’t invite me,” Tubbo mutters.

“Well, we’ve got somewhere to be,” Wilbur says loudly. “I do believe you are going to investigate, Inspector Halo?”

“Yeah, we’ll take a look around,” Bad says. Wilbur gives him a nod and set off down the sidewalk by the main road.

“Where are we headed?” Tubbo asks.

“The Hotel,” Wilbur says. “There, we can fill Tubbo in on the details.”

Well, Tommy thinks as he takes a deep breath. This is going to take a while.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Puzzles in this Chapter:  
> Double Digits  
> From A to D  
> Back and Forth  
> Cookie Conundrum  
> Find the Clock Tower


	6. A Short Detour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> getting rid of the guards

[“Dean](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G133JtCNYbA) Delmona?”

Tommy peers over Wilbur’s shoulder, noticing the man standing on the street by the train station, wringing his hands, his white hair shimmering in the sunlight.

“Oh! Professor Soot!” The dean approaches them, less harried than the last time they saw him. The passage of time is strange, Tommy thinks, when they have just seen him a few minutes ago and ten years ago at the same time. “Fancy seeing you here!”

“Nice to meet you too,” Wilbur says with a polite nod. “What brings you to this part of town?”

“Just taking a walk,” Future Delmona says. “I don’t come to this part of the town often.”

“I see.” Wilbur says with a smile. “I apologize for not speaking longer with you, Dean Delmona. We really have to get going.”

Future Delmona laughs heartily. “Well, you shouldn’t let me keep you. Adventure waits for no man, as they say.”

Wilbur bids him farewell. They enter the hotel, finding Becky missing and her grandmother working on some documents. Tommy opens the door to their assigned room and the group finds their beds made and the room tidied, smelling of lavender.

“This is what London’s like in the future, huh?” Tubbo says, settling down on one of the plush beds. “It’s really…bland. Blander than I thought it’d be. There aren’t that many people on the streets.”

“It’s because of future Wilbur,” Tommy says. “The guy’s a nutjob.”

“Future Wilbur? Now _that_ I want to see,” Tubbo says. Tommy does too, although he is not quite sure what he expects. “Why’s he’s a nutjob, though?”

“Future Wilbur’s the boss of the criminal underground. Basically, he’s got this secret evil lair where he’s helping this mad scientist build a time machine.”

“A time machine, you say? Why not use the clock shop? Isn’t that a time machine too?”

“Maybe he doesn’t know about it,” Tommy says, frowning. Now that Tubbo has brought it up, it does seem odd. It is not like Future Wilbur lacks a horde of goons that he can command of his own free will to seize the shop.

“So now we’re going to Chinatown to stop Future Wilbur with my future self,” Tommy says.

“You have a future self!” Tubbo cries, raising a brow. “Did you see _my_ future self? Are we still friends?”

Now that Tommy’s thought about it…no, he _has not_ seen Tubbo’s future self. Neither has Future Tommy made any mention of him.

“In any case, we’re going to go up against gangsters, armed and great in numbers,” Wilbur says. “I’m going to repeat myself, Tubbo: you’ve got to stick close to us. Don’t go running around like you did last time.”

“I was swept away by the crowd! I wasn’t running around,” Tubbo says, pouting. “And you guys didn’t even realize I was gone!”

They had a good reason for that, one that makes Tubbo bitter. Fundy had assumed his identity and continued to Folsense with the duo, successfully infiltrating the Molentary Express and nearly hijacking their adventure.

“What’s happened…has happened,” Wilbur says with a sigh. The Elysian Box, while having presented a magical journey, is not a topic he likes to revisit. “Let’s head on to Chinatown and see whether we can meet Big Innit there.”

“Big Innit? Is that your name for Tommy’s future self?” Tubbo asks. He turns to Tommy. “Do they just call you Tommy?”

“He’s Little Tommy,” Wilbur says with a smirk that Tommy wants to slap from his face. Tommy fumes silently as he and Tubbo follow Wilbur out of the hotel, only to see someone familiar waiting at the lobby.

“Shipley!”

The stout man walks over, grasping the strap of his bag in hand. “I’ve got a message for you from Big Innit. He wants to meet you at the observation tower. Just to the north of here.”

“I see,” Wilbur says, nodding. “We’ll go over there then.”

Shipley leaves the establishment, padding away down the sidewalk, black bag bumping against his body with each step. The observation deck, huh? Tommy does not remember seeing such a structure on the way here. Is it perhaps on a side road that they have missed?

Within minutes from the hotel, the trio is headed down a side path that takes them to a park. A tall tower standing in its middle adds a tinge of idyll to the beautiful greenery. That must be the observation tower that Future Tommy mentioned.

Unfortunately, a puzzle locks the door. Why must Future Tommy test them so?

“Ooh! Let me try!” Tubbo reaches for the lock and squints at the numbers inscribed upon it.

[ ** <Puzzle: Time Times Three> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SkRBb5IAvKQ&)

The lock is unlike one that Tommy’s ever seen. They are provided with several numbers on the number pad, each digit allowed one use. The first two digits to the left of each colon are minutes and the two digits to the right are seconds. Sixty seconds will roll over into a minute, and they cannot exceed sixty minutes.

Tubbo hums, pursing his bottom lip as he works that brain of his. Tommy would rather reserve his energy for puzzles that do not involve mathematics. Listening to Wilbur and Tubbo discuss the math is exhausting enough.

The equation becoming much easier to solve, apparently, after the first few inputs. The door opens upon the completion of the peculiar equation, permitting access into the tower. They enter the tower, headed up to the deck via a spiral stone staircase.

[Standing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=glZ3GsqH0rw&) with his back to them is Future Tommy, gazing out towards the Pagoda in the distance. He turns when they approach, and that is when Tommy notices the tuft of green feathers sitting on his shoulder.

“I see you got my message from Shipley,” Future Tommy says.

“What is that?” Tubbo asks. “Oh my God, it’s so cute!”

“Is that…?” Future Tommy tilts his head for a moment before recognition dawns on him. “Is that you, Tubbo?”

“It is, it is! And you must be Tommy Innit’s future self!” Tubbo beams, shaking Future Tommy’s hand fervently. “It’s an honour to meet you, big man.”

Future Tommy chuckles. “It’s great to see you again, Tubbo.”

“What is that?” Tommy asks, pointing at the parrot currently perched upon Future Tommy’s shoulder.

“What is that?” the parrot repeats, a perfect replica of Tommy’s speech. Tommy stumbles back, flinching at the abomination to the ears. Wilbur laughs.

“This is my new friend, Henry,” Future Tommy says. “I found him when he was stealing some food from the Family grunts.”

“He’s rather well-behaved, isn’t he?” Tubbo says, reaching over to the parrot. The parrot hisses, snapping its beak. Tubbo yelps and withdraws his hand, looking somewhat betrayed.

“Speaking of the Family, how goes the scouting?” Wilbur asks, interrupting their reunion. “Have you noticed anything about their patrol patterns?”

“Well…” Future Tommy glances over at his feathered friend. “I happened to overhear them talking, actually. Good and Geppy have a twenty-four-hour shift. They are never going to leave that spot. Meals would be delivered to them.”

“Good and Geppy?”

“The names of the two goons who were blocking the way.”

Tommy groans. “You’ve got to be joking. How are we going to get past them now?”

“No need to worry,” Future Tommy says. “This is where Henry comes in.”

“Henry? What can Henry do?” Tommy asks.

“Bostro came around to check on them once, and from the way they speak, it’s obvious that Good and Geppy are of a lower rank,” Future Tommy says. “Now, the thing is that Bostro has a certain catchphrase too.”

“A catchphrase?” Wilbur asks.

“He likes to shout, ‘get lost’,” Future Tommy says thoughtfully. “Hell, probably ten times a day. I say we get Henry to mimic Bostro’s voice and chase them away.”

“Sounds like a plan. Henry is startlingly good at that,” Wilbur says. “Do you know where Bostro might be now?”

“At the Casino. Day or night, he’s always there. Unless he is not.”

Tubbo stifles a laugh.

“Wouldn’t there be a lot of Family goons prowling about after that whole fiasco yesterday?” Wilbur asks.

He is probably right. The Casino has probably tightened their security detail ever since the stunt they pulled, blasting the Family goons away with their slot machine gun.

“I know a way,” Future Tommy says. “Come on.”

With no other option, Wilbur, Tommy and Tubbo follow Future Tommy back down the staircase, presumably headed for the Gilded Seven Casino.

*

Where they ended up, though, is _not_ the Gilded Seven Casino. Future Tommy has taken them to a spot under an archway filled with dust, moss growing all over the stone pavement. Trash lies against the wall, boxes of cardboard and broken furniture making up most of the pile.

Future Tommy grasps the edges of a table and lugs it aside. The cardboard boxes balanced on top of it falls away, revealing a narrow passageway carved into the wall.

“This way,” Future Tommy says. He wriggles into the hole, crawling down the suspicious tunnel that would, apparently lead them to Bostro. Wilbur steps forward and follows Future Tommy through, joined by Tubbo, with Tommy taking the rear.

Time passes ever so slowly when all they can do is inch forward. Luckily, the tunnel does not last long, widening at its end and opening up to a dimly-lit room, but Tommy knows it all the same. Nothing has changed, not the lockers, the bottles of detergent and cleaning equipment, the desks…

[They](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NZllgAYyFTo) have arrived back at the Casino’s break room. Voices can be heard from where they stand, albeit slightly muffled. However, there is one gruff tenor that Tommy instantly recognizes.

“You’re saying you lost track of that boy?”

“Y-Yes, Bostro. We said we’re s-”

“I don’t even know _why_ the Family hired you useless good-for-nothings! Get lost! Scram!”

“Yes sir!”

Tommy’s ear is pressed up against the door. The thundering of footsteps fading away.

“That was a really loud one,” Tubbo says with a nod.

“It was,” Future Tommy agrees. “Now, I wonder if Henry picked up on it.”

“Get lost! Scram!”

Tommy jumps out of his skin, squeaking in surprise as Henry squawks, its voice a flawless copy of Bostro’s. Henry cocks its head, almost as if it is _mocking_ Tommy.

“Get lost! Get lost!”

“Mission accomplished. I think we should leave before we get caught,” Future Tommy says. “Come on now.”

They return the same way they came, through that tiny hole in the wall that brings them back to the archway. As soon as they are outside, Henry flaps onto and sits on Future Tommy’s shoulder.

“We’re going to Chinatown next, are we?” Tubbo asks, swiping at his clothes. Clouds of dust and lint bursting from his shirt and trousers.

“That’s right,” Future Tommy says. “It’s just past the River Thames.”

Tubbo falls into step beside Future Tommy, chatting excitedly with him about the new developments in London. Tommy treads beside Wilbur, who is reading from that tiny book he retrieved from his office.

[“What’s](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=glZ3GsqH0rw) that?” Tommy asks.

“This?” Wilbur barely spares him a glance. “It’s a record of my investigation into an old case.” He shuts the book, tucking it into his coat pocket.

“The case of the file you wanted to look at?”

“Yes,” Wilbur says, exhaling forcefully. “It was…a terrible explosion. An explosion that cost the life of my best friend and caused another friend to be estranged from me.”

“Your best friend?” Tommy’s never heard of Wilbur having a best friend. Save himself, that is.

“She was in the same year as me, studying Literature,” Wilbur says. “We met through Photography.”

“A club?”

“Yeah,” Wilbur says, nodding, gaze on the ground. 

“Wait, you saw this woman on the streets?” Tommy asks, suddenly recalling the incident back at Chinatown, when Wilbur had been utterly shaken upon seeing a stranger. Could this stranger that elicited such a funny reaction from Wilbur be her?

“I…” Wilbur bites his lip. “I must have seen wrong. It couldn’t be. She died in that explosion.”

If Tommy thought that the height of angst that Wilbur’s exhibited peaked in the case of the Elysian Box, then he is sorely mistaken. For Wilbur to make such an expression, forlorn and sorrowful, this woman must have meant a great deal to him.

Tommy resists the urge to bombard Wilbur with any more questions. What is in the past is in the past; there is no going back.

Before Tommy knows it, they have already passed the Thames by and are now headed up the winding road covered in foliage, fast approaching the tranquil neighbourhood of Chinatown.

*

[“This’d](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6cwEnCZP3E4&) better work…” Tommy mutters. He and Tubbo are hidden from sight behind a building, backs pressed flush against the concrete, watching the spectacle-to-be. Future Tommy and Wilbur are in another alley on the other side of the broad path, crouched in position. Henry chirps, talons clutching Future Tommy’s shoulder.

Future Tommy whispers something to Henry. The smart bird understands the command, repeating the desired phrase in its booming voice.

“Get lost! Scram!”

It is still unnerving just how much Henry sounds like Bostro, sending chills down Tommy’s spine. The two Bad-and-Skeppy lookalikes, Good and Geppy, jump in fright.

“H-Hey, do you think Bostro’s here?” Geppy asks.

“No one else dares shout at us like that!” Good cries, shivering visibly. “Come on! I don’t wanna stick around for another one of Bostro’s…!”

They must be pretty scared of Bostro to run at a supersonic speed away from their post. When the coast is clear, the four of them emerge from their spots.

“Thanks, Henry,” Future Tommy says. Henry chirps happily, taking to the skies. Henry continues to scream in Bostro’s voice, flapping its wings as it soars away from the group.

“There it goes.” Tommy watches as the parrot takes its leave. What a clever bird that is.

“Look.” Tubbo points at the door.

To Tommy’s disappointment, there remains a puzzle keeping the massive door in place. Future Tommy approaches a control panel to the side of the door, screen blinking green.

“Let’s see here,” he says. A paragraph of pixelated words shows up on the screen along with a grid of arrows.

[ ** <Puzzle: Arrow Flow> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SkRBb5IAvKQ&)

“How to unlock,” Tommy reads aloud. “Start from an arrow and follow them from one button to the next. Find the only button that will lead you through all the other buttons on the panel.”

Future Tommy traces the arrows on the grid with a finger, humming to himself as he does. Tommy stares at the arrows, eyes following the directions they are pointing in.

“It’s this one,” Future Tommy says.

Tommy frowns. He has hardly had time to work out half the puzzle. Tubbo congratulates Future Tommy, clearly impressed by his speed, leaving Tommy sinking just a little deeper into the claws of jealousy.

Why does everyone heap praises on his future self like that? Sure, that’s Tommy too, but isn’t Tommy fine the way he is now?

Doubt begins to overwhelm his train of thoughts. Is he too bratty, compared to the more-mature Future Tommy? Too brazen, too whiny, too dumb to solve the puzzles…

[“Little](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TOBxJS6W4T0) Tommy, are you coming?”

Tommy blinks. Future Tommy and Tubbo are waiting for him, standing by the big metal gate that has opened, a deserted straight path stretching from it, with the Pagoda looming at the very end. The area itself just looks like a ghost town, abandoned houses and factories clustered everywhere.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry,” Tommy mumbles, shuffling along after them. Maybe he should try being smarter or being less…ill-mannered.

“Wait a minute,” Future Tommy says, glancing around. “Where’s Wilbur?”

Wilbur’s gone? Tommy follows Future Tommy’s gaze. Their friend is nowhere to be found.

“Apologies. I had to check something out.” Tommy whirls around to find Wilbur emerging from behind a building and walking up to them, his hands in his coat pockets.

“Where’d you go?”

“I thought I saw some Family goons down that way,” Wilbur says with a wave. “Turns out, it was nothing.”

“Well, you should have told us.” Tubbo pouts.

Wilbur chuckles. “I should have. Sorry about that.” He strides on past them, taking the very first step into the most dangerous part of Chinatown. “Shall we go?”

Despite his worries, Tommy follows the group as they near the Pagoda. Future Wilbur is waiting for them up there, and they are going to confront him at all costs.

*

“What do you mean he’s not around?”

A man in a silk hat whistles, hands behind his back as he stands at the door to the Pagoda. He wears a monocle, his outfit a hideous combination of clashing colours.

“I mean what I said,” the man says. “He’s not around. Left a couple of hours ago, actually. You’ve just missed him.”

“Just missed him?” Wilbur folds his arms. “Do you know where we might find him?’

The man glares at him. “You must think me some lowly mole. I would never rat out my boss like that.”

“Well…”

“Go home,” the man huffs, “and don’t come back.”

“Was all that work for nothing?” Tommy cries as the foursome put some distance between themselves and Family territory. He is about to continue his rant when he catches himself. Manners, he reminds.

“Perhaps, or perhaps not,” Wilbur says, holding up a finger. “Let’s have a look around and we’ll see whether we can find info on future Wilbur. We’ll need all the dirt we can get if we want to tip the scales in our favour.”

“And we’ll come back once he’s returned,” Future Tommy finishes. “We can search for him in the meantime. I doubt he’s gone very far.”

“Searching for someone?”

An elderly man approaches them. He is a rather short man wearing a deerstalker, locks of white hair peeking out from underneath. Who is this guy? He sizes them up with an appraising gaze and taps his walking stick against the ground.

“Looking for the big boss, hmm?” the man says, chortling. He reaches a hand out to Wilbur, who shakes it. “The name’s Rudolph, and I do think I can help you with your…predicament.”

“You know where he’s went?” Tubbo asks.

“Why of course. I see him rather often,” Rudolph says, nodding. “Not that I’m a friend of his, of course,” he adds quickly. Tommy narrows his eyes. This guy is suspicious as fuck.

“Well, I can give you a hint if you’d help me with this puzzle.” Rudolph sighs. “It’s been haunting me for the longest time now.”

“We really-” Wilbur starts, but Future Tommy holds a hand up.

“Don’t worry, Wilbur. I’ll handle this.”

There Future Tommy goes, taking the initiative in situations again. A creeping sense of inferiority crawls up Tommy’s spine once more that he can’t quite shake. He squares his shoulders. Perhaps, if he manages to solve this puzzle, he will be able to regain everyone’s respect.

[ ** <Puzzle: False Memory> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SkRBb5IAvKQ)

“Three boys are playing a card-matching game using twenty cards, or ten pairs.

“Boy A says, ‘I matched ten pairs in a row from the start.’

“Boy B says, ‘I matched nine pairs in a row from the start.’

“Boy C says, ‘I matched eight pairs in a row from the start.’

“One of the boys is lying. Which one?”

That’s an easy one. “It’s Boy B, innit?” Tommy explains his reasoning – it’s fairly simple, actually – and the man nods in understanding, face lighting up like a lightbulb.

Tommy’s eyes dart to his teammates, frowning at the blanket of silence at his grand achievement.

[“Thank](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TOBxJS6W4T0&) you so much for your help,” Rudolph says, adjusting his collar. “Well, I promised you information, didn’t I?”

According to Rudolph, Future Wilbur tends to head to the Thames’ Arms, a cosy restaurant by the river where Family goons like to gather. At this point, he is convinced that that restaurant is a secret hideout for the Family. Rudolph wishes them luck on their investigation.

The four of them head back the way they came, making for the forgettable little restaurant that sits by the wide river, providing a scenic view for its patrons. Tubbo practically waltzes down the stairs, with Tommy trudging on after him. Future Tommy and Wilbur engage in their own class of academic conversations as they trail behind.

“What _is_ that?” Tubbo asks, gesturing at a black, metallic dome, closed off from the public by a stiff, steel door. Tommy kicks at it, but the door does not budge.

“We’ve no reason to be there, Little Tommy,” Wilbur calls. “The restaurant’s the other way.”

“I know that!”

“I wonder what it’s for,” Tubbo says, casting the dome one last look before padding on after Wilbur and Future Tommy who are already halfway across the boardwalk, the Thames’ Arms in sight.

[Posters](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=glZ3GsqH0rw&) of the Thames’ Arms are slathered on the windows, effectively blocking their view of the interior. From what little Tommy can see, there appears to be a counter where a bartender stands with his back to them, polishing a glass. Several round tables covered in chequered tablecloths are placed haphazardly around the restaurant, the dark wood blending in with the black floor. However, what is most notable is the fact that there are hardly any people. How in the world is this place surviving?

Wilbur enters first. The bartender turns, regarding them from behind his sunglasses, lenses glinting in the lights hanging overhead.

“Welcome to the Thames’ Arms,” the bartender says. The glass clinks as he places it back onto the shelf. “How may I help you?”

“We’re looking for someone,” Future Tommy says. “Someone who wears a coat just like this one.” He gestures at Wilbur’s coat, the one that had been the cause of their ostracization almost everywhere.

“Ah.” The bartender nods understandingly. “He comes around every so often to dine.” His voice is familiar, but Tommy is not quite sure where he heard it from. “He just left, by the way. Said he was going back to Chinatown.”

“That must have been our man,” Tubbo says. “Quick. We’ve gotta go!”

“Indeed we shall,” Wilbur says. He thanks the bartender for his help. Together, they leave the restaurant, once more returning to the Pagoda.

*

“You’re back.”

The monocled man fixes them with a disdainful expression. He folds his arms, squaring his shoulders.

“We are, and we have been informed that your boss has returned,” Wilbur says.

The man sighs, “I’d very much like to mess with you, but alas, I’ve strict orders from him to allow you inside. After you solve this puzzle, of course.” He produces a piece of paper from his pocket and hands it to Future Tommy, who unfolds it and reveals the puzzle within.

What had Tommy really expected? Wherever he goes…no, wherever _Wilbur_ goes, he is always swamped with puzzles.

[ ** <Puzzle: Five Stamps> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SkRBb5IAvKQ&)

There are five numbered stamps: 3, 4, 5, 6 and 7. Using any of the five stamps as many times as they like, they must fulfil the equation: ___ + ___ + ____ = _____

Only one digit can fit into each blank space. Using the smallest number of stamps, which stamps should they use?

“Three and six,” Future Tommy says confidently, handing the paper back. The man crumples it into a ball and shoves it into his pocket. Even criminals are too distinguished to litter, it seems. The man steps aside and allows them into the Pagoda, where Future Wilbur awaits at the very top.

[The door](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HXPfwH2zEao&) creaks shut behind them, rumbling as they are shoved back into place. The room is flanked with pillars, stone lion statues pinning them with their dead gazes. The lanterns and tapestries hanging from the walls, accentuated by the crimson wallpaper and strips of gold, give the entire place a rather oriental vibe.

A headset is placed on a pedestal in front of the door, a plate engraved with words affixed to it. It seems that they have met their next adversary already.

** <Puzzle: Strange Glasses> **

“Put the goggles on. You will see two images – they were originally the same, but one of them has now been flipped right-left and rotated and unknown amount.

The shapes are all the same as in the original image, with the exception of one that had been slightly altered,” Future Tommy reads.

“Let me try this one,” Wilbur says, reaching for the goggles. “I can’t let you children steal the show.”

_I_ _’_ _m not a child,_ Tommy wants to say, but bites his lip. Be mature, he tells himself.

Tommy watches as Wilbur slides it on, wishing that he had moved slightly faster and offered to solve it for them. Wilbur flinches as the goggles begin to shudder, revving up like a futuristic gadget.

“What do you see, Wilbur?” Tubbo asks.

Wilbur hums, covering his mouth as he stares intently at the wall. Or perhaps the pictures projected by the goggles. Tommy cannot be sure.

“Shapes. A lot of them,” Wilbur mumbles. A couple more seconds pass, before he says, “Alright, I’ve got it.”

As soon as he speaks, the door ahead of them opens to a flight of spiralling stairs, a red carpet tumbled over the steps. Tiny alcoves are carved into the pillar in the middle, holding porcelain vases decorated with dainty flowers. Tommy sighs, grasping the handrail.

There is never a better time to start getting some exercise, he supposes.

*

The next challenge lies at the top of the staircase, past a bridge that leas them to another section of the Pagoda. This gargantuan red door is painted with a dragon, missing one of its eyes. Three nets, potential candidates to form the other eye are spread out on a pedestal.

** <Puzzle: Eye of the Dragon> **

<https://layton.fandom.com/wiki/Puzzle:Eye_of_the_Dragon?file=UF090.png>

“We’re probably supposed to match the eye that’s already there,” Future Tommy says, bent over the display case. Tommy joins him, scrutinizing the three nets. He glances back at the design of the other dragon’s eye, where Tubbo and Wilbur are observing it from all angles.

Tubbo pads over, humming as he inspects the nets. “I think it’s this one.”

Future Tommy shakes his head. “I thought it was the other one.”

“Nonsense,” Wilbur says, stabbing his finger at the final net. “It has to be this one.”

Tubbo peers up at Tommy. “What’s your call, big man?”

Tommy blinks. Are they asking for his help?

“Well, I, uh…” Tommy stares at the three nets in front of them. Who knows what might happen if they get this wrong – they’re deep in Family domain after all.

However, it is strange. Tommy’s inclined to pick the one Wilbur did – after all, Wilbur’s got an amazing track record with puzzles, but his hunch tells him to agree with his future self. Tubbo’s one is totally out of the question.

If he goes with his gut feel, does that mean that Wilbur is wrong? But that can’t be right. Wilbur’s a puzzle-solving genius. But at the same time…

“Tommy, are you alright?” Tubbo asks.

Tommy gulps. What can this mean?

“This one.” Tommy rests a finger against the one that Future Tommy chose.

“Well, we’ll go with that then, if you’re sure,” Wilbur says nonchalantly.

[Something](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HXPfwH2zEao) is not right here. Is Tommy the only one who noticed? Future Tommy plucks the net off the desk and folds it into the same shape as the other eye. He sticks the misshapen orb into its spot on the wall. The wall trembles a little, rumbling as it splits into two, revealing another set of stairs behind it.

Tommy stifles a complaint as he joins his companions, making their way up the staircase to reach the floors above.

*

It is rather peculiar, Tommy thinks, that they have yet to see hide nor hair of any other Family member upon these stairs. It is almost as if…they are being…watched. At the top of the stairs, Tommy laments his lack of fitness. His thighs scream in soreness, chest heaving as he catches his breath. He is not the only one; Tubbo is panting as well, hands grabbing his kneecaps in an effort to steady himself.

Looking up, Tommy realizes that this must be the final door, sporting the most elaborate design he has seen, locked in place with…a puzzle, of course. This time, the puzzle consists of a grid and a block of text affixed to its side.

[ ** <Puzzle: The Mirror Maze> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SkRBb5IAvKQ&)

“Sixteen circular rooms are arranged in a square as shown. Beams of light shine in straight lines from each of the four letters, A, B, C and D, and exit through the four yellow arrows. Two-sided mirrors in four of the rooms reflect these beams. Beach beam passes through the number of rooms listed next to its letter.

Identify which four rooms contain mirrors and the direction each mirror faces. Touch the rooms to add or remove mirrors and change their direction,” Tommy reads.

“Hmm.” Wilbur approaches the grid and taps one of the circles. A mirror appears, slanting to the right. Touching it again causes the mirror to slant to the left. It looks like they can only place the mirrors diagonally to reflect said light beams.

“The first mirror has to go here,” Future Tommy says, tapping on one of the circles. A second mirror appears in one of the circles. Tommy draws the route of the light beams in his head. By placing the mirrors there, then…

“I got it,” Tubbo says, swooping in just as Tommy holds up his finger. He taps the grid and places the final two mirrors, angling them in the right way that solves the puzzle. The door glides open with nary a sound.

What waits behind that door is nothing like what Tommy had expected.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Puzzles in this Chapter:   
> Time Times Three  
> Arrow Flow  
> False Memory  
> Five Stamps  
> Strange Glasses  
> Eye of the Dragon  
> Mirror Maze


	7. The Master of the Towering Pagoda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> meeting future wilbur

[A man](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HXPfwH2zEao&) stands with his back to them, wearing the same kind of hats that Wilbur does, a coat so similar to Wilbur’s it is hard to tell them apart. A light tan colour with bits of brown, Wilbur’s signature piece of clothing.

“You came.”

The man turns to face them, most of his face obscured by the hat and shadows.

“You’re really… Future Wilbur, are you?” Tommy asks, steeling himself.

Future Wilbur laughs. “Have you reason to believe otherwise?”

In the span of ten years, Wilbur’s voice has changed considerably. Tommy can hardly recognize it anymore. Future Wilbur folds his arms, a smirk on his face.

“You have some nerve,” Wilbur says, striding over, unafraid, “to pose as me.”

“Pose as you?” Tubbo asks, squinting at the two men in front of them. “What do you mean?”

If that man is not Future Wilbur, then who is he?

“Are you calling me a fraud?” Future Wilbur says, the smirk transforming into a faint smile.

[“Indeed,”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6cwEnCZP3E4&) Wilbur says, and stabs a finger in the direction of the man, “and I intend to expose you for the imposter you are!”

Future Wilbur claps. Sarcastically.

“Interesting,” Future Wilbur says. “Why do you deny that I _am_ you? Just ten years in the future?”

Wilbur shakes his head. Tommy has never seen him so confident. “I don’t right now, but all will be clear once you answer my question.”

“Of course.” Future Wilbur nods. “Is this a puzzle?”

“What colour pen am I carrying in my pocket right this instant?”

Future Wilbur frowns. “How am I supposed to know if you don’t provide any clues?”

It is then that Tommy’s blood runs cold. Did Future Wilbur – no, it is not Future Wilbur. Tommy’s certain of it now – just slip up? The imposter that stands before them has just made an irreversible mistake that both Tubbo and Future Tommy have caught on as well.

Wilbur grins. “If you truly are me, then you must have lived through this moment before. In that case, you would know that I have no pen in my pocket right now.”

Future Wilbur cackles. Not evilly, not condescendingly. More amused than anything. In one swift move, he removes his hat, dropping it onto the desk, face bathed in light.

It is Jacobs! The scientist who caused that big commotion back at the time machine demonstration. How dare he uses Wilbur’s name to commit evil deeds!

“You motherfucker!” Tommy shouts, prepared to give Jacobs a piece of his mind.

“Not so fast, Tommy.” Wilbur grasps Tommy’s shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

“There’s only one of him and four of us! We can totally take him!” Tommy cries. “Let me go, Wilbur!”

“I wouldn’t try anything funny if I were you.” Jacobs says. “Not if you want to see your ‘precious’ Prime Minister get hurt.”

“So you _do_ have the Prime Minister with you,” Future Tommy huffs.

“Was there any doubt?” Jacobs says. He moves to stand in front of his desk and produces a remote controller from his coat. He taps a couple of buttons and immediately, the bookshelf to their right begins to shift. A small tunnel appears, alongside…

“It’s Bill Hawks!” Tubbo cries.

The Prime Minister is gagged and bound, sitting on a high stool. He is unconscious, spectacles askew on the bridge of his nose. Tommy narrows his eyes. Jacobs truly has them beat. With the Prime Minister in his clutches, they cannot conduct themselves rashly.

“Why are you doing this?” Wilbur asks firmly, keeping his gaze on Bill Hawks.

“You know why, Wilbur Soot,” Jacobs says. “You know exactly what happened fifteen years ago.”

Fifteen years ago…? Tommy had not been living in London then. Is this part of Wilbur’s tragic past?

“Niki,” Jacobs growls. “You killed Niki.”

Wilbur stiffens. “I did not.”

“If not for your encouragement, she would never have agreed to go to that demonstration,” Jacobs says. “She would never have been caught up in all that nonsense.”

“And who was the one who made that offer? We both know-”

“Stop it!” Jacobs snaps. “You still played a part in her death. Stop denying that fact, Wilbur.” He laughs, hand over his eyes. “I’m going to bring her back, whether you like it or not.”

“Bring her back?” Tommy asks. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re building a time machine, aren’t you?” Future Tommy says. “An honest-to-goodness time machine?”

Jacobs nods. “If I can travel back in time and get to the demonstration before it has a chance to begin, then I can save her. I can save Niki and she won’t have to die.”

Before Wilbur can open his mouth, Jacobs holds up a remote controller. “I’m done playing games, Wilbur Soot and friends. You’re in my territory now,” Jacobs says, smiling. “Your situation is looking dire. With one press of a button, I can summon my men to my side. In terms of strength, you can never match up to me.”

Wilbur steels himself. “As weak as we may be, there must exist a way to extricate ourselves from the situation. A puzzle always has an answer,” Wilbur says, holding up a finger, “and it’s my job to find out what it is.”

Jacobs leers. “I’d like to see you try.”

[ ** <Puzzle Battle: vs Karl Jacobs> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rfqivzjdhd4&)

[ ](https://layton.fandom.com/wiki/Puzzle_Battle?file=PuzzleBattle2.png)

On the left are Wilbur’s troops, while on the right are that of Jacobs’. As it stands, the chance of losing is certain. However, by matching up your troops a little differently, the outcome may very well be swayed in your favour.

The stars on the ribbons represent the strength of each troop. By switching up the positions of the troops on the left, how may the group avoid losing this seemingly-unwinnable battle?

“It may seem impossible at first,” Wilbur says, “but if you position the troops this way, then it would result in two wins, two losses and a draw.”

Jacobs narrows his eyes. “Not bad. Not bad at all.” He presses a red button on the controller. “But not good enough.”

Tommy stumbles as the floor trembles, something large descending from the ceiling above. What had once been a clear view of the office is now marred by iron bars. Jacobs had just, quite literally, confined them in a cage!

“What’s going on?” Future Tommy glares at Jacobs, who only wears the same smile on his face.

“I was always one step ahead of you, Wilbur Soot. Always one step ahead,” Jacobs says. “And now, you can sit there peacefully while we wait for my men to escort you away.

“Well, that’s _if_ they can.”

Tommy blinks. He glances back at Wilbur. “Did you say something?”

“I didn’t.” Wilbur coughs into his hand. “But man, you sure took your time.”

[“My apologies.”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zXNDbJ6almk)

Someone else steps out from behind them, hands in his pockets, coat swishing around his legs as he strides over to stand between Jacobs and the cage.

It is Wilbur.

Wait a minute.

“What’s going on?” Tubbo whips his head around, glancing from one Wilbur to the other. “Wha-? Why are there _two_ of you?”

Tommy rubs his eyes. There indeed are two Wilburs, one of them in this cursed cage, and the other standing with his back to them, like a hero.

“If that’s Wilbur, and _you_ _’_ _re_ Wilbur-” Future Tommy watches, wide-eyed, as the “Wilbur” that stands with them rips off his disguise, clothes tumbling to the ground to reveal another familiar face.

It is Fundy.

Oh my God. This is the man who tried to kill them at least once. Tommy would never forget the panic from running down the collapsing tower in St. Mystere, nor Wilbur’s magnificent powers of flight.

“You were posing as Wilbur the whole time?” Tommy asks. “Oh my God. You fucker-”

“Hey now. It’s not the time to be talking about past grievances,” Fundy says, holding up his hands. “I tried killing Wilbur, he tried killing me. We’re even.”

“Karl Jacobs.” The real Wilbur’s commanding voice snaps Tommy to attention. He’s always just got that kind of charisma, the kind Tommy looks up to. “It’s time to give up your game. I’ve set several traps in your tower, and your men won’t be running to your aid anytime soon.”

“I should have expected this, Wilbur Soot,” Jacobs says. “But you haven’t beaten me yet!”

Was Wilbur friends with Jacobs in the past? Why is there so much to Wilbur’s backstory that he is not privy to? Does Wilbur really not trust him enough to tell him all this?

Focus! Tommy snaps to attention. He should not be dwelling on that now.

With another press of a button, Jacobs fills the room with smoke that hisses from the ceiling, shrouds of white descending upon them and clouding their vision. When the room clears again, all that is left is an empty office, save for the five of them. A red light in the corner of the room glares at them, burning Tommy’s eyes.

Wilbur wastes no time in rushing over to the desk, disappearing behind it. With a click, the cage lifts above their heads, granting them freedom once more.

“Quick. This way,” Wilbur says. “The traps I set won’t last very long.” He kicks the desk powerfully, toppling it and sending all sorts of baubles, papers and stationery flying to the ground, revealing an open hatch. Jacobs must have disappeared down this hole!

“We’re going to have to split up,” Wilbur says. “I’ll go with Tommy and Fundy. Big Innit and Tubbo, you’ll have to go together.”

There is no time for argument – Family goons will be swooping in any second now.

“We’ll see you at Hotel Duke,” Wilbur says. Future Tommy salutes them and together with Tubbo, they begin to make their way down the hatch. Tommy meets Fundy’s gaze.

“For the record, I still don’t trust you,” Tommy says.

Fundy shrugs. “That doesn’t matter to me.”

“Stop bickering, you idiots,” Wilbur says. “Come on, let’s go.”

[ ** <Puzzle: A Blind Escape> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SkRBb5IAvKQ&)

<https://layton.fandom.com/wiki/Puzzle:A_Blind_Escape?file=UF097.png>

In this tunnel, the trio cannot turn until they hit a wall. Starting at the red dot and following this rule, what path can they take to reach the goal without going through the same tunnel twice or running into dead ends?

The slide to the ground is a long, twisting set of tunnels, curving to the left, to the right, making sharp turns that sends Tommy barrelling into the rocky walls.

[Wilbur](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TOBxJS6W4T0&) is the first to tumble out of the maze of tunnels, picking himself up before Tommy and Fundy come crashing through, landing in a heap of limbs and struggling bodies.

“Get off me!” Tommy yelps, shoving Fundy to the ground with all his strength. Sheesh. The nerve of the guy. How dare he crush someone like the great Tommy Innit?

“Big Innit and Tubbo aren’t here,” Wilbur says. “I suspect they’re making their way towards Hotel Duke already. Come on, let us meet them there.”

“I’ve got a ton of questions for you, Wilbur. A massive ton,” Tommy says, keeping an eye on Fundy, who trails after them with the most disgruntled expression.

“Of course. Ask away.”

“Where the fuck were you? When did you and Fundy switch places? And how…what the actual fuck, man?”

“I had already swapped places with Fundy when you guys were still trying to get past the gate,” Wilbur says. “There were some strange things I’ve noticed about some of the people in future London. One of them being ‘Future Sam’ and ‘Future Delmona’.”

“Huh?”

“Recall our first interaction with ‘Future Sam’,” Wilbur says. “Do you remember what he said to us? He called you ‘Little Tommy’. Don’t you find it strange that ‘Future Sam’ was not surprised at all to see a younger version of yourself here, in London ten years in the future? Well, that’s because ‘Future Sam’ was actually Fundy in disguise.”

“It was an honest mistake,” Fundy huffs.

“It was what aroused my suspicions then,” Wilbur says. They make their way out of Family territory, having successfully dodged the detection of roaming grunts. They have yet to see Future Tommy nor Tubbo – the two of them must be further along than Tommy thought. He hopes Tubbo made it back to the hotel safely.

“Then what happened?” Tommy asks.

“We met the future dean when we came back to future London a second time,” Wilbur says. “It was then that I noticed his white hair.”

“What does his white hair have to do with this?”

“When we met the real Dean Delmona back in the present,” Wilbur says, “he had brown hair. Except that it was not actually hair. I told you this before.”

Right. The dean back in the present time was bald.

“And Fundy fucked it up again by choosing a white wig in an attempt to show that Dean Delmona aged,” Wilbur says. “Isn’t that right, Fundy?”

Fundy deigns to answer.

The sloshing of waters against the riverbank of the great River Thames echoes in their ears. The bridge takes them over back to Flatstone and Midland Street. Before long, Hotel Duke comes into view, its charming exterior visible from the train station.

Wilbur enters the hotel, finding Becky and her grandmother having a hushed conversation. Upon noticing them, Becky leaps to attention, greeting them with the warmest of smiles.

“How was your day?” Becky asks. “Oh, the boy you came by with earlier went up to the room already.”

Tommy breathes an internal sigh of relief, before stopping himself in his tracks. Wait, but she mentioned a ‘boy’. A single boy? Tommy sure hopes it is Tubbo. If it is his future self, he would not know what he would do.

“Well, I’ve got places to be,” Fundy says, already turning his back on them. “Maybe I’ll see you around. Maybe never.”

“Good day to you too, Fundy,” Wilbur calls, met by the slam of the door to his face. He shrugs, unbothered by the harsh treatment. He climbs the stairs two at a time, Tommy padding right behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Puzzles in this Chapter:  
> Puzzle Battle vs Karl Jacobs (1)  
> A Blind Escape


	8. Across the Thames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> to the research facility

[It is](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G133JtCNYbA) Tubbo, much to Tommy’s relief, that waits for them in the cosy room. He rises when they enter, the spark in his eyes a sharp contrast to the vague loneliness they exhibited before.

“You’re back,” Tubbo cries. “I was waiting for you.”

“Glad to see you’ve made it back safe,” Wilbur says with a nod. “Where did Big Innit go?”

“He said there’s somewhere he needs to be, so he told me to stay here and wait for you,” Tubbo says. “Meeting someone called Shipley, he said.”

Ah. Future Tommy’s close associate. Tommy wonders what Future Tommy needs to see Shipley about.

A knock on the door jolts Tommy from his thoughts. A woman’s voice floats from the other end.

“Mr Soot? You have a guest!”

A guest? Who might that be?

Tommy moves to open the door, finding Bad and Skeppy standing behind it. Becky takes her leave.

“Why’re you here?” Tommy asks.

“There’s something I’d like to talk to Mr Soot about,” Bad says. He notices Wilbur walking up to them and greets him with a grim smile. Wilbur does not reciprocate.

“What seems to be the matter?” Wilbur asks, inviting them in. Skeppy sits himself on the couch, while Bad stands by the door, hands in his pockets.

“I was just wondering if you happened to have seen…Niki wandering around,” Bad says.

Niki? Tommy feels like he has heard that name before. Just a while ago, in fact.

“As a matter of fact, I have,” Wilbur says. “I thought that it was my imagination at first, but now that you say you’ve seen her too…”

“But she can’t be alive. That’s the weird thing,” Bad says. “We know she died in that explosion.”

Wilbur frowns contemplatively. “Does Niki have any relatives, Inspector? That woman could be his sister.”

“I…” Bad frowns. “I don’t remember. I can go back and check the files, though.”

“That would be a great help.”

“Solve the puzzle and knock thrice on the door, right?”

Wilbur affirms that statement and Bad and Skeppy leave, headed back to the present. The door shuts behind them with a click.

“Where are we headed now, Wilbur?”

“Well, we’re going to find Jacobs’ time machine, of course,” Wilbur says. “Seeing as he’s commanding a platoon of scientists to build it for him, he’s got to have some kind of factory here. Jacobs escaped from his base in Chinatown, so if he’s anywhere, he’d probably be at the factory.”

“But where could that be?” Tubbo asks.

“I don’t know its exact location, but we should search around the River Thames,” Wilbur says. He straightens the collar of his coat. “Come on.”

Wilbur seems sure of himself, and Tommy trusts his friend’s instincts. He and Tubbo follow Wilbur out of the hotel and they make their way once more to River Thames on a hunt for a factory.

*

“Why the Thames, Wilbur?” Tommy asks. He is genuinely intrigued how Wilbur came to that conclusion. London is a huge city, yet Wilbur’s zeroed in on such a specific location.

“Do you remember the scientist that we saw at the bridge?” Wilbur asks, holding up a finger. “His footsteps had been wet.”

“Wet?”

“If that man was a scientist that had been working on the time travel machine – which seemed likely, since there doesn’t seem to be any labs around here – then it makes sense that wherever he came from was, well, wet.”

“And the nearest place with water was the Thames?” Tubbo concludes.

“Indeed, and this is what I wanted to investigate.”

Wilbur approaches a familiar dome – the metallic dome that is entirely black and covered with screws, bolts and nails. Tommy did think that it was strange that there is a random, useless dome here. Is this where the factory is?

The dome’s electronic lock depicts a grid with several symbols displayed upon it. It appears that they are going to have to demolish the trials that Jacobs has set forth before they are allowed to enter the factory.

[ ** <Puzzle: The Right Button> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SkRBb5IAvKQ&)

To open the door, they will need to decide which button to push. The rules are simple. Each symbol indicates a direction, and they will have to proceed from button to button following these directions:

Star = left, Moon = Right, Sun = down, Water = Up. There is one button that they can start from which allows them to pass through every square exactly once. Which button is it?

Tommy approaches the grid, tracing his finger over the symbols. He forms a mental map in his head, watching as the only possible route is conjured across the buttons.

“This one,” Tommy and Wilbur say in unison. As soon as they press the right button, the map beeps and the door opens, allowing them into the damp tunnel. Tommy does a victory dance in his head; he’s solving puzzles as quickly as Wilbur is now.

[A flight](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M6RbvXWy_30) of stairs leads them further and further underground. Water drips from the ceiling, annoying droplets plopping onto Tommy’s nose. They continue until they come to a long, mossy brick walkway. Though raised over a river of water, the walkway is stained with puddles. Weeds sprout and coil around the railings.

Lamps hang overhead, casting their eerie glow throughout the tunnel. The engulfing silence gives Tommy the creeps. He sticks close to Wilbur and Tubbo, trying his hardest not to jump at every little sound.

A ladder lies at the very end, a beam of sunlight pooling from the open hatch above. Wilbur is the first to climb it, poking his head through the hole. He lets his companions know when the coast is clear. Tommy and Tubbo follow him, stumbling out onto a grassy patch of land.

When Tommy raises his head, all he sees is a massive facility, surrounded by stone walls topped with barbed fences and a rusted gate at least twice Tommy’s height. Unfortunately, their advance is impeded by a giant padlock keeping the gate tightly shut.

“It’s not like entering from the main gate would be a good idea, anyway,” Wilbur says. “The whole place is probably crawling with Family goons.”

“What about that door over there?” Tubbo asks.

Tommy’s gaze lands on a small door tucked into an alcove in the wall. It is made of ebony wood, its shiny knob as good as new. Tommy jiggles it, only to realize that the door is shut fast.

“An electronic lock,” Wilbur says, tapping at a strange plate, a set of tiles embedded into it, on the side of the wall below another peculiar setup. It looks like they are going to have to solve this puzzle to enter. Why must Jacobs make everything so inconvenient for himself and his employees?

[ ** <Puzzle: Missing Tiles> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SkRBb5IAvKQ&)

The goal of this puzzle is to fill the arrangement above, as shown, with four numbered tiles. Each tile may only be used once and placing a tile into the blank space enters it into the equations in the positions above and below that space. How may they arrange the tiles such that they would be able to fulfil all the conditions set forth by the equation?

Wilbur, as per usual, answers speedily. When he enters the final tile, the door opens to reveal an unkempt and empty yard. Flanking the sole path forward are all sorts of heavy machinery and structures made of interconnecting steel beams.

[“Shit.”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M6RbvXWy_30&) Wilbur bumps his back against a wall, peering out from behind a shed. Tommy watches, with a hand over his mouth, a Family goon dressed in that distasteful grey-and-white getup. The goon does not seem to notice them. When he reaches the end of the path, he spins on his heels, heading back the way he came.

“Patrolmen,” Tubbo observes.

“We’re going to have to find another way in,” Wilbur says. “Come on. We shouldn’t stay here for too l-”

“Intruders!”

Tommy whirls around, greeted rudely by a Family goon standing right behind him. Tubbo kicks the goon in the shin and Wilbur throws out a mean right hook, knocking his lights out.

They may have dealt with him, but the goon has already raised the alarm. Already, Tommy can hear the pattering of footsteps closing in on them.

Tommy glances down at the sudden rattle of metal, seeing a hand waving at them from a manhole. Who is that?

“No time to waste,” Wilbur says. “Let’s go!”

Wilbur shoos them towards the manhole and Tommy is the first one to slide down the ladder, wincing at the abrasion on his palms. Tubbo is the next one down, stepping on one rung at a time. Finally, Wilbur climbs down the ladder, sliding the manhole cover back in place. The sewer is plunged into darkness.

The sewers…again. The last time he had been in a sewer was quite a while ago, but it had been memorable. The pungent stench, the staleness of the air…

“It’s you again!”

Tubbo jabs a finger at Fundy, who brushes dirt from his jacket.

“What are you doing here? How’d you get here faster than we did?” Tommy cries.

“Magic,” Fundy says flatly. “You guys certainly took your time.”

“We had matters to consolidate,” Wilbur says dismissively. “Have you managed to scout the area out beforehand? Any idea how to get to where Jacobs is building the time machine?”

A slow smile spreads across Fundy’s face. He folds his arms, nodding contentedly. “Oh, you know it, Wilbur. Follow me.”

They have little choice but to comply with Fundy’s directions. He leads them past the rivers of disgusting sewage, down a corridor till they come to the base of another ladder. Fundy ascends the ladder and opens the manhole cover above his head, hauling it aside and hoisting himself out.

“How do you know this place so well?” Tubbo asks as soon as he climbs out.

“Karl paid me for my services,” Fundy says. “But I don’t work for him anymore.”

Tommy does not ask why. He can only assume Wilbur spoke some sense into him.

Where they end up this time is much cleaner, featuring plain cream walls with several doors affixed with shimmering signs. Tommy lifts himself out of the hole, helping Tubbo up. Wilbur is the last one through, grunting as he shifts the manhole cover back in place.

“Where are we?” Tommy asks.

“In the stupid factory,” Fundy replies. 

As soon as they turn a corner, a yelp resonates in the hall. Tommy tenses, ready to run. That is, until he notices that the one who made the noise seems as afraid as they are. He topples over, landing harshly on the ground, all over his white scientist’s coat.

“Please don’t hurt me!” the scientist cries, throwing up his hands in an attempt at a pathetic defence.

“We’re won’t. We promise,” Wilbur says quickly. “You must be one of the scientists working on the time machine.”

The scientist’s eyes grow wide, shoulders still hunched but more relaxed than before. “How’d you know that?”

“It’s all part of Jacobs’ plan. He’s keeping you guys trapped here, right?” Wilbur says. The scientist nods.

“Well…” The scientist fidgets with the hem of his shirt. “We’re not exactly trapped…We’re stranded ten years from the future, you see, and the only way home is if we can get a time machine up and running.”

Something seems to click in Wilbur’s head, because he nods thoughtfully. “I see. Are all the scientists here working on the time machine?”

“Well, there are a few others assigned to work on another secret project somewhere, and, um, they-”

Before the scientist can continue, resounding footsteps from down the hallway has the foursome glancing up. Tommy stifles a startled scream; the sheer number of Family goons is overwhelming. They have got to leave as soon as possible.

“Not so fast!”

An unmistakable voice booms behind them. The scientist shrieks in terror, sinking to the ground and curling into a foetal position. Tommy grits his teeth, realizing the predicament they are in. They are surrounded, with no easy escape route in sight. Their leader, Bostro, cackles, taking absolute delight in staring them down like a predator would prey.

“What are you going to do now?” Bostro sneers. “Trapped like rats, you lot are.”

“Well, we’re screwed,” Fundy says, sighing.

Tommy hopes not, because he does not particularly appreciate being bound and thrown into an unclean storage room again. Tommy glances over at Wilbur. In times like this, his friend always has a plan up his sleeve.

Except now. Tommy can see the gears in Wilbur’s head turning, searching their environment for a plan, but how can they locate one when there is none to be found? Are they actually going to die this time?

“Over here!”

Tommy turns his head towards a woman’s voice, her arm beckoning them from behind a door. Suddenly, everything happens at once. The group wastes no time in following her, ignoring the frantic yells from the goons. Fundy slams the door shut, a piercing bang ringing out in the tiny room.

This must be a bedroom, furnished with identical bunk beds, wardrobes, and bedside tables. Sheets are messily thrown about, pens scattered about the tables and lab coats draped over chairs.

“Are you-” Wilbur grabs the woman’s wrist, suddenly at a loss for words. A first for him, Tommy thinks. “You’re…”

The woman shakes her head, gently prying Wilbur’s fingers from her arm. “They’ll catch up to us in no time. We have to go.”

“But Niki…” Fundy begins, only for the woman to cut him off.

“I’m not Niki,” the woman says. “I’m Nihachu, Niki’s sister. And we have to go, before we get captured.”

Nihachu makes a dash for another door at the far end of the room. Tommy does not hesitate, following the woman and Fundy as they run down the hallway. The hallway is narrow – too narrow for a large cluster of the goons to pursue them all at once.

Nihachu pulls open a door at the very end, and the group barrels through. Wilbur kicks it shut, stalling the goons for mere few seconds. Their only way forward is a ladder that leads up.

Tommy can only hope the coast is clear on the surface.

“I’ll go first,” Fundy says, grabbing onto the rungs and climbing swiftly to the top. Nihachu is next, followed by Tubbo, Tommy and Wilbur. They emerge onto a moss-covered dirt path, the same one that they had seen when they had been meandering outside the facility.

The inconspicuous door that they had entered from can be seen from where they stand – that is their ticket out!

“There they are!”

This time, it is not Bostro leading the goons. Good and Geppy command a legion of their own.

“Let’s split,” Fundy says, grabbing Niki’s arm. “We’re gonna increase our chances of getting out this way.”

“But-” Wilbur starts.

“No buts.”

“We’ll be fine,” Niki says, flashing them a reassuring smile. “We’ll meet at the Old Father’s Embrace!”

What the hell is that supposed to mean? Is that a special code or something? Tommy glances up at Wilbur, who can only watch them go with a longing expression. Fundy and Niki have already made off, diving down another path and drawing half the goons away.

“We have to go too!” Tubbo shouts. “Come on!”

Tommy grabs Wilbur’s wrist and drags him away from the incoming wave. Tubbo shoves the door open and the three of them spill out the facility, making towards the dome.

Wilbur locks the door once inside, but the three do not stop running till they have reached the other end. The Thames’ Arms a sight for sore eyes when they exit the flooded waterway.

[“Oh](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G133JtCNYbA) my God. I thought we were gonna die,” Tubbo says, a hand clutching his chest.

“Me too,” Tommy says, breathing a sigh of relief. He turns to Wilbur, who is gazing over at the facility in the distance. Tommy knows what he is thinking – sharing so many adventures with his best friend has made him rather attuned to Wilbur’s thoughts and emotions.

“Fundy’s a tough guy,” Tommy says. “He’ll make sure they make out all right.”

“Yeah, we’ll just have to believe,” Tubbo says. “He tried to smash my tower, remember?”

Wilbur forces a smile at that. “Yeah.”

“But Wilbur, if I may ask-” Tommy starts.

“You never do ask if you can ask.”

“Shut up, dickhead.” This elicits a tiny chuckle from Wilbur.

“Yes, you may ask, Tommy.”

“What was all that about?” Tubbo asks. “You still haven’t really explained everything to us about Niki and that future you and everything.”

“It was…” Wilbur sighs, leaning against a plump tree trunk, shoving his hands into his pockets. “It was quite a few years ago, just before I met Tommy.”

“Uh huh.”

“There had been an explosion at the interdimensional lab where Jacobs worked. Its cause was…unknown. At least, I couldn’t dig anything up,” Wilbur says. He stares at his feet. “As you may have guessed, Niki’s life was taken by that blast.”

“Niki was your best friend, right?”

Wilbur looks up. “Yes, she was. But I…” He looks uncomfortable. “I left out a part of that story. We were actually a group of three best friends, and the other friend was Fundy.”

“Fundy!” Tubbo seems surprised. Tommy is not. He does not know what tipped him off, honestly. Perhaps it was his sharpened deduction skills.

“I studied Archaeology, Niki, Literature and Fundy, Computer Science,” Wilbur says. “We belonged to three different faculties, but we met up a couple of times a week at Photography,” Wilbur says. “I was all alone when I first came to London and Niki was the first one who spoke to me.”

*

_[Wilbur](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W7f-kOoXhbI&) looks up from where he is sitting in a corner, all by his lonesome, watching everyone else talk ever so easily. While he longs to join in on the discussions, the crippling anxiety seizing his chest refuses his wishes. Whenever he so much as thinks about the possible dirty looks, the mocking tones or the pitying gazes, whatever resolve he has cooked up wilts away like a rose._

_It was probably a mistake to join a club in the first place. The dean encouraged him to_ _–_ _he would make more friends that way_ _–_ _and Wilbur decided to give it a try, despite his better judgement._

_Oh well. It is time to pack his bags and leave._

_“_ _Hello!_ _”_

_Someone appears in his field of vision. A woman in a pink blouse, blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders. He has never seen her before in his life. Is she a student? Or an advisor of this club?_

_“_ _My name_ _’_ _s Niki,_ _”_ _the woman says, smiling. She gestures at the chair opposite him._ _“_ _Is this seat taken?_ _”_

_Wilbur shakes his head. She seems young. Not a professor, then. An undergraduate student, perhaps?_

_“_ _What_ _’_ _s your name?_ _”_

_Wilbur raises a brow. Why is she talking to him? Why him when there are so many other people in the same room willing to engage in riveting discussions about the aesthetics of photographs or whatever photographers talk about? Is she taking pity on him?_

_The questions dry on his tongue. Instead, he manages a soft,_ _“_ _Wilbur Soot._ _”_

_Niki_ _’_ _s smile does not fade. If anything, it has gotten brighter._

_“_ _Welcome to the Photography Club, Wilbur. I_ _’_ _m sure you_ _’_ _ll love it here._ _”_

*

[“Must](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=glZ3GsqH0rw&) have felt real special, didn’t you?” Tommy grins. Wilbur huffs.

“She introduced me to Fundy, and that’s how the three of us met and became good friends,” Wilbur says.

“Then she was caught up in all…that?” Tubbo asks warily.

Wilbur sighs, nodding. “There’s a hint of truth to what Jacobs says, no matter how I try to deny it. I _had_ encouraged Niki to take up that…that offer, after all.”

“That offer?”

“She was friends with Karl Jacobs, though Fundy and I didn’t know him very well,” Wilbur says. “He made her an offer to participate in a demonstration of a time machine that he and another scientist had built.”

“And it was because of that that…” Tommy trails off, letting the implications hang in the air.

“When I got to the site of the accident, I was much too late. The entire lab was in flames. The explosion blew up a couple of flats next to it too. There were so many people running about, shouting and screaming, and I had to comfort little boy on the streets who had lost his parents to the blast.”

“A little boy?”

“I did all I could to stop him from throwing himself into that burning building. It was a tragedy to all who were there.”

“That’s terrible…” Tubbo mumbles.

“What I found strange was that there were no reports of it on the media, or anywhere. Someone with powerful political connections had been trying to cover everything up,” Wilbur says.

The injustice of it all ignites fury in Tommy. It is always them, isn’t it? People who can throw their money and power around to conceal whatever horrible things they have been doing from the public eye.

“I tried to do my own research, recording it all in my journal.” Wilbur holds up his book, the one he had retrieved from his office. “But a month or two after I started, I was assaulted.”

“You were what?” Tommy cries. No one assaults Wilbur and gets away with it. He needs names. Now.

“Hit over the head,” Wilbur says. “Mild concussion, but nothing I couldn’t recover from. Everything else that I had on me – the files and shit – were gone. Except my journal.”

“So this person with powerful connections is the real bad guy,” Tubbo says.

“We don’t know enough about the situation to conclude anything concrete,” Wilbur says. He stands up straight. “Well, and that’s that. Niki perished in that blast, and it seems that both Jacobs and Fundy resent me for that.”

“That’s not right,” Tommy says, shaking his head. “I mean, you couldn’t have known that it would blow.”

“They want someone to blame, and I don’t fault them for that,” Wilbur dips his head. “What’s done is done. Now, I think we can finally get to the bottom of this mess.”

“Get to the bottom of this mess? What do you mean?” Tubbo asks.

“I will let you know in due time,” Wilbur says. “Now, let us meet up with Nihachu and Fundy.”

“She said something about the Old Father’s Embrace, right?” Tommy says. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Wilbur clucks his tongue. “The Thames’ Arms, of course. You _do_ know about Old Father Thames, right?”

Tommy blinks. What does Father Thames have to do with this?

“Oh! I get it,” Tubbo says, face lighting up. “It’s in Father Thames’ ‘arms’, right? So, like, Thames’ Arms?”

“Right,” Wilbur says. “Come along now. It’s not far.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Puzzles in this Chapter:  
> The Right Button  
> Missing Tiles


	9. The Truth Revealed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the truth behind future london

[The](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=glZ3GsqH0rw&) Thames’ Arms stands only a couple of feet away. Tommy spots two figures loitering outside the restaurant.

“Bad! Skeppy!” he calls. “What are you doing out here?”

Bad tilts his head. “We were actually going to have some lunch.”

“Lunch? It’s too late for lunch, I’d say,” Tubbo says. “It’s almost three.”

On that note, Tommy’s starving. Maybe he should grab a bite while Wilbur lays out his impressive reasoning once again.

“By the way, Inspector. Have you got the answer to that question that I posed?”

“Well…it’s just as I suspected. The answer is no.”

“I see.”

Without further ado, the group heads inside. Tommy is relieved to see that Nihachu – and Fundy, though Tommy is not particularly happy about that guy – make it out alive and well, sitting at a table enjoying a cup of tea. The same bartender is present, polishing a plate this time, his back turned to them. The only other person present is Future Tommy, who waves to them upon their arrival.

“Where have you been?” Tommy asks, making a beeline to his future self. “You’ve been gone a long time.”

“I had something to settle with Shipley,” Future Tommy says. He gestures to the chairs around his table. “Please, do have a seat.”

Wilbur speaks with Nihachu and Fundy, voices hushed. They look…serious. Not happy, not sad, but stern. He wonders if Wilbur wishes that it is Niki instead of her sister here with them.

“Would you like something to eat?” Future Tommy asks. “Lunch is on me.”

“Oh, uh…”

“I’d like a plate of fish and chips, please,” Tubbo says. Tommy scowls.

“He was asking me. Not you.” Tommy looks up at Future Tommy. “Fish and chips too.”

“You’re copying me!”

Future Tommy laughs. He stands and heads on over to the counter to place their orders.

[“Has](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3gbWiFxMvNU) everyone settled down?” Wilbur says. Future Tommy returns to his seat, chair scraping against the wooden floorboards. The atmosphere becomes tense, even as the bartender walks over to Bad and Skeppy to serve them their pasta.

Wilbur scans the room, satisfied with the silence, and proceeds. “I have finally figured out the entire truth behind his peculiar tale.”

No one dares speak. Wilbur ability to command the attention of the room is impressive, Tommy thinks.

“How would you all feel if I tell you that we are not in the future?” Wilbur says with a smile on his face.

“What? But London’s clearly different!” Tubbo cries. The bartender serves up their portions of fish and chips, the aroma of breaded fish wafting around them.

Future Tommy’s expression hardens.

“That’s because we are standing on what must be the biggest movie set in our lives,” Wilbur says. “This London was merely built to resemble our London at its backbone, to make us believe that we have been transported to the future.”

“But that clock shop-” Skeppy starts, before choking on a mouth full of pasta.

“That’s no time machine,” Wilbur says with a bark of laughter. “That’s an elevator that takes us down into this subterranean cave, where this giant movie set has been put in place.”

Then the sensations that Tommy felt…they make sense now. Stomach dropping when they are heading into Future London, and a floaty feeling when they are going back to their time.

“And one of the conspirators,” Wilbur says, “who had organized this entire scheme, is you.”

He points at the bartender, who looks absolutely calm in the face of the accusation. He places the plate back on the shelf with a clink.

“What makes you say that?” the bartender asks.

Fundy continues the explanation. “When we first came into the Thames’ Arms, we were looking for information on future Wilbur, correct? And this place was one of the many establishments the Family owned.”

“That’s quite right.”

“But you never once expressed any surprise, or shock, when we walked in,” Fundy says. “That made me a bit…suspicious, so I told Wilbur about it.”

“So what? I don’t get it!” Skeppy cries.

“What Fundy means is that at the sight of our presence, or, at least, Fundy disguised as myself, the bartender should have thought that I was Jacobs, but he never did,” Wilbur says. “Which leads me to think that you, my good sir, are Jacobs himself.”

The bartender smiles and strips off his hat and sunglasses, placing them neatly on the table, revealing Karl Jacobs in the flesh, dressed in the humble bartender’s suit.

“You’ve outsmarted me once again, Wilbur,” Jacobs says. “But you and your friends won’t make it out of here alive.”

“What do you mean?” Tommy asks, the fork nearly dropping from his grip. His and Tubbo’s fish-and-chips remain untouched on the table.

“I’ve laced the entire restaurant with explosives,” Jacobs says. He gestures at the expanse of the restaurant. “They’re all hidden in the floor and will go off as soon as any of you make a move.”

“Motion sensors?” Bad asks, the rising panic evident in the tremble of his voice.

“That’s right. They respond to everyone else’s footsteps that are not mine. Nor Niki’s,” Jacobs says. “Luckily for you, I have a map here that can tell you where all the bombs are placed.”

Jacobs strides over to where Wilbur is seated with Fundy and Nihachu and hands them a piece of paper. Tommy sits close enough to be able to peek at the map of the restaurant.

[ ** <Puzzle Battle: vs Karl Jacobs> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rfqivzjdhd4&)

“The numbers at the top of each column and the end of each row indicate just how many bombs there are in that column and row,” Jacobs says, prancing about and mocking their inability to move rashly.

Jacobs drops a pen onto the table, which Fundy snatches up immediately. The atmosphere is tense, silent save for the scratching of the pen’s nib against the paper. Everyone keeps their eyes on the table in the middle of the restaurant, on Wilbur, Fundy and Nihachu.

“Done,” Fundy says, squinting at the paper. “So the bombs are…”

Wilbur shakes his head. “Hold on. Look at it upside-down.”

“Upside-down?” Tommy wonders. Intrigued, Fundy does as he is told, and that is when Tommy notices the hidden message behind that puzzle.

[ ](https://layton.fandom.com/wiki/Puzzle_Battle?file=PuzzleBattle3_%28US%29S.png)

“It says ‘Lie’,” Wilbur says. “That must mean that this whole puzzle is a lie.”

“So we don’t know where the bombs are after all!” Tubbo worries his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Not necessarily,” Wilbur says, standing, the legs of his chair scraping the floor noisily. Jacobs frowns as Wilbur walks boldly over to him, holding the piece of paper out. “The bombs themselves are the lie.”

Jacobs takes a step back, bumping into the counter.

“You wanted to distract us while you made your escape,” Wilbur says. “But there were never any bombs to begin with.”

“That’s…” Jacobs starts, struggling to find an argument.

“Niki is gone now, Jacobs. You have to accept that fact.”

Jacobs drops his head, shoulders hunched, the very picture of defeat.

“Why don’t you give it up?” Future Tommy says, joining Wilbur’s side. “Tell us the whole story, Karl Jacobs. Why did you do this?”

[Jacobs](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aWMpDVrcyvw) hangs his head. “You don’t understand. I had to save her. I had to save Niki.”

“Through the use of a time machine?” Wilbur asks.

“Yeah,” Jacobs says. “If I could return to the past and prevent that blast, then…”

*

_No!_

_Karl_ _’_ _s footsteps thundered on the sidewalk as he ran towards the laboratory. No way! There was no way Hawks had...The time machine was not finished! There were still so many problems, so many_ _…_

_An explosion caught him off guard, forcing Karl to stop in his tracks. He stared, wide-eyed, at the clouds of smoke billowing into the sky. The shadow of an experiment gone wrong rising from the laboratory._

_Screams echoed in the streets. People jostled and pushed. Even cars stopped to see what the commotion was all about._

_Karl did not care about all that. No doubt that the explosion came from their time machine. That was the only thing it could be, and that means_ _…_

_Niki_ _…_

_Niki had been the one to reach out to him when he had failed a module, sitting with him at the cafeteria, comforting him as he had chowed down on spaghetti with tears streaming down his face. She had been a light in his life, spurring him to pursue his PhD_ _…_

_Niki couldn_ _’_ _t be_ _…_

_When Karl reached the topmost floor of the laboratory, he found it in a complete mess. The entire ceiling was blown to bits, scraps of metal lying everywhere. Pieces of debris covered the floor, save for Bill Hawks lying in a corner, a stream of blood trickling from his forehead._

_Karl searched desperately for Niki. She could not be dead. She was such a strong-willed person, a person who will come through no matter what. Karl refused to believe for an instant that her life can be snuffed out like that, like a flame in the wind._

_He found her not long after. Just an arm, though, peeking out from under a pile of debris. Karl dropped to his knees, unable to repress the tears gathered in his eyes. It was then, wiping his tears alone this time, that Karl made a promise to himself._

_No matter what it took, he will erase the tragedy from the annals of history and bring Niki back to life._

_No matter what._

*

“Where were you? Why weren’t you there?” Fundy strides up to Jacobs and seizes his collar. “Weren’t you the scientist who asked her to be-?”

“Fundy, please! Stop!” Nihachu yanks at Fundy’s arm, and the latter begrudgingly releases Jacobs. Jacobs clutches at his throat.

“I was, but I…that wasn’t…I wasn’t there when it exploded!”

“What do you mean you weren’t there?” Wilbur asks.

“There were still a lot of kinks to be smoothed out,” Jacobs says. “The time machine wasn’t ready! I wouldn’t have put Niki in danger like that!”

“Then who…?”

“Who else?” Jacobs snarls, raising his head, a crazed look in his eyes that scares Tommy so. “It was Bill Hawks! It had to be!”

“Bill Hawks?” Bad sounds surprised. “What does the Prime Minister have to do with this?”

“Bill Hawks worked on the project with me. He made a deal with an MNC to sell our project to them if we could prove that it worked,” Jacobs says. “I didn’t even know he made the promise until after the…the…” He can hardly bring himself to say it.

“After the explosion…” Wilbur mumbles, expression softened.

“The demonstration was way too early. The time machine wasn’t going to work, but Hawks had already…so he made Niki participate and…”

“So that’s why you kidnapped the Prime Minister,” Tommy says.

“Yes,” Jacobs says, burying his face in his hands. “That’s the whole story. I swear it.”

[“I see.”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3gbWiFxMvNU&) Wilbur says, nodding thoughtfully. “Do you know that you were being used, Karl Jacobs?”

Jacobs tilts his head. “Being used?”

“You agree that this is not, in fact, future London, correct?” Wilbur says. Jacobs does not reply. Wilbur continues. “In that case, there is someone else who is exceedingly suspicious among us.”

“Someone else?” Tommy asks.

“Think about it, Tommy,” Wilbur says with a glint in his eye. “If we were never in future London, then whose identity should we question?”

The only person in the room whose identity they must question…Tommy gapes.

“No way.”

“I would like you,” Wilbur says, turning to Future Tommy, “to reveal exactly who you are. And why you had orchestrated this entire chain of events.”

Future Tommy stands abruptly. “I…I think you’re mistaken, Wilbur.”

“If you won’t tell everyone here, then I’ll do it for you,” Wilbur says, cocking his head. “Your name is Jack Manifold, and you lost your parents in an explosion five years ago.”

“What? So you weren’t ever my future self?” Tommy cries, leaping away from the table.

“That’s not it,” Future Tommy says, gesturing wildly. “Wilbur…Don’t you trust me? I’m your best friend?”

“I can say for certain that you are not,” Wilbur says. “You were the boy I helped on the streets five years ago. You lost your parents to the explosion and moved in with your grandmother. She died not long after, and you inherited her entire fortune before being taken in by Spring and Cogg. Using your inheritance, you managed to craft this entire scheme in order to exact revenge on the scientists who killed your parents.”

Wilbur meets Jack’s gaze inquisitively. “Is this correct, Jack Manifold?”

Jack removes his cap and the wig, tossing them aside. It had been a disguise the whole time and Tommy had not even noticed!

“That’s…extremely acute of you, Professor Soot,” Jack says. “You’re right, though. You’re absolutely right. I want vengeance against the people who took my family away. I’m sure you understand.”

“Vengeance?” Tommy asks.

“Yeah, we were one of the families living in the flat next door. We were on of the victims,” Jack says. “My parents died because of some incorrigible scientists! And those scientists got off scot-free!” Jack laughs. “The murderers didn’t get retribution at all for the pain they inflicted upon innocents!”

“Jack-” Wilbur starts, but Jack shakes his head.

“No,” Jack says, cutting him off. “I’m done with you and your shitty power. You don’t get a say in who lives or dies. I’m going to end it now. I’m going to deliver karma to everyone who dare use your power for harm!”

[Before](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ORSfTqak9J8) anyone has a chance to react, Jack grasps Tubbo’s arm, dragging the startled boy from the table, almost knocking the plates of food to the ground.

“Where are you going?” Bad shouts, rising from his seat. “Come back!”

Wilbur, Nihachu and Fundy have already made it to the door. Tommy quickly joins them, staring at the lone speedboat on the waters, propelling itself towards the strange lighthouse in the distance.

“We have to follow them,” Wilbur says. “Fundy? Do you have anyth-”

The ground quakes before Wilbur can finish that sentence. The faux River Thames begins to rise, water crashing onto the boardwalk upon which they stand.

“To higher ground! Hurry!” Nihachu shouts, and the group evacuates the area. Wilbur and Tommy run up the stairs two at a time, followed by Fundy and Jacobs. The lighthouse snaps from its place and spiked missiles shoot through the air. The missiles stab into the walls of the caves – or “future” London’s skies – and pulls the giant fortress from where it is residing deep underground.

This is madness! Where did Jack find the opportunity to build all this?

The roof of the cave beings to crumble as the fortress crashes against the ceiling. The machines used to simulate the times of day break apart, the bones of a massive metallic structure splashing into the river.

“The citizens of London are in danger!” Bad cries.

“Go and evacuate them. As many as you can,” Wilbur says tightly. “We’ll have to make our way up to the fortress to stop Jack!”

“And save Tubbo,” Tommy adds.

Fundy hums, arms folded. “In that case, I’ve got something that you’d like. Follow me.”

It is at the top of the stairs, on the road leading to Flatstone Street, that the group split ways, with Bad and Skeppy heading back to the Midland clock shop to head back up to the surface. Fundy, on the other hand, leads them over to the garden near Chinatown, where Tommy spots a familiar vehicle parked in the undergrowth.

It is Wilbur’s ancient car! Or, well, the replica of it they saw at the hospital!

“This was your design, Fundy? I should have known.” Wilbur asks. He retrieves the car’s key from his pocket, the one that he had been received from a disguised Fundy.

“I fixed it up,” Fundy says. Wilbur unlocks the car’s door and sticks the key in the ignition. Tommy clambers into the passenger’s seat after him. It _does_ feel like Wilbur’s car, apart from the fact that everything seems as good as new.

“Wait, are you seriously going to go up there in a _car_?” Jacobs’ expression is priceless. If not for the current crisis, Tommy would have laughed.

“Anything’s possible if you try, bitch,” Fundy huffs. He peers at Wilbur through the wound-down window. He jabs at a red button below the steering wheel. “That’s your ticket out of trouble, Wilbur. I hope you remember that.”

Wilbur nods, meeting Fundy’s gaze evenly. “Thank you, Fundy.”

“I don’t need your sappy thanks,” Fundy says. “Now go! I wanna see how well my shit runs!”

“Wait! Let me come with you!” Nihachu shoves Fundy aside, her face appearing at the window.

“I can’t,” Wilbur says, shaking his head. “It’s too dangerous up there. What will Niki say if I let her sister rush headlong into danger with us?”

“I…” Nihachu starts, but Wilbur wastes no time in slamming his foot down on the accelerator, the car’s engine revving and speeding off down the path, jerking and bumping against the pebbles and rocks. They reach a grassy field, which one of the mobile fortress’ legs stands.

“Hold on tight, Tommy!” Wilbur shouts.

Tommy braces himself, unable to keep his eyes off the windscreen as Wilbur continues to step on the accelerator, the car gaining speed as it races down the crevice in the field. The car soars through the air for a couple of uneasy seconds before beginning its ascent up the rugged leg of the fortress.

The drive is smoother than Tommy expected. As soon as they are upon the fortress’ body, a metallic platform that spirals around it provides a convenient ramp that brings them halfway up the fortress before it terminates on a flat surface.

Wilbur parks the car and he and Tommy climb out. Tommy does not dare look down, not when they are so high up and the fleeing people look like ants…yeah, he should stop now.

“Come on. We shouldn’t dally, Tommy.”

Tommy’s footsteps clank against the metal ramp as he follows Wilbur, who is inspecting a rusted door that could grant them passage into the hulking metal monster. The fortress jerks and Tommy almost topples, hands grabbing at Wilbur’s shoulder.

“Steady yourself, Tommy,” Wilbur says, gripping his wrist.

Tommy scrutinizes the puzzle laid out in front of him, a word problem that requires them to enter a number onto a lock fixed on the wall.

[ ** <Puzzle: Around the Table> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oKHd1c1APnY)

One day, King Arthur invited a number of honoured guests to dine at the Round Table. At his request, everyone say at evenly-spaced intervals around the table. After sitting down, two ladies in attendance, Guinevere and Nimue, were amused to find that neither of them had a woman sitting direct adjacent or opposite to them.

What is the minimum number of people who were sitting at the Round Table?

“Five,” Wilbur says, keying in the lone digit and pressing Enter just as the fortress begins to move once more. The lock blinks with a green light and the door opens. The duo disappears into the fortress just as it lifts its leg, body swaying with the movement.

Tommy and Wilbur stumble in, met with a set of twisting corridors. It is like a maze in here, narrow corridors branching out from the main one.

Tommy straightens his shoulders. They have only got two goals here: to save Tubbo, and to stop Jack. They can do this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Puzzles in this Chapter:   
> Puzzle Battle vs Karl Jacobs (2)   
> Around the Table


	10. The Stronghold of Madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> infiltrating jack manifold's stronghold

[Peeking](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ehCTkparvHI) their head through the rooms yields nothing. No Tubbo, but there is an unsurprising lack of Family goons as well. Jack probably does not trust the Family enough to disclose any details about his pet project.

Wilbur and Tommy find the elevator quickly enough, a shimmering panel attached to the wall. The duo files in. Wilbur taps on the panel, a red rotating lock to appear on the screen.

“It’s puzzle-locked,” Wilbur says, touching his chin as he regards the puzzle with utmost urgency.

[ ** <Puzzle: A Cryptic Combo> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oKHd1c1APnY)

The screen displays a grid of the numbers one to fifteen in a portrait grid with a length of five and a breadth of three.

“Open with a two but leave four?” Tommy reads the words that accompany the puzzle. He touches the button with the number two, but nothing happens.

“I don’t think that’s the way to solve it, Tommy,” Wilbur says. “Don’t be a child.”

“Now’s not the time for ‘child’ jokes, Wilbur!”

Wilbur solves the puzzle easily, fingers flying over eleven buttons. The puzzle disappears and allows them access to certain levels in the fortress. For now, only two locations are open to them: their current level and the ventilation room.

[The car](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ehCTkparvHI) descends, headed for the ventilation room. The doors open to reveal a long, featureless corridor plastered with maroon wallpaper. The carpet is plush beneath their feet, a door framed with beige sitting at the very end.

It is unexpectedly unlocked. The room beyond houses a single, glass dome, spotted with holes. Tubbo sits in a corner of the dome, hugging his knees to his chest.

“Tubbo!” Tommy runs up to him, slamming a fist against the glass prison. It does not even budge.

Tubbo jolts at the sudden bang. He stares, wide-eyed, at the duo for a good second before leaping to his feet. “You’re here! You actually came!”

“Of course we’d come,” Wilbur says. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Tubbo shakes his head. He points to a shiny lock at the base of the dome, keeping it in place. “The dome’s puzzle-locked.”

Tommy puffs his chest out proudly. “Who do you think you’re talking to? We’re the best puzzle-solvers in the entire world!”

Tubbo chuckles. Wilbur squats, inspecting the electronic lock with a colourful screen.

[ ** <Puzzle: Cat ** ** ’ ** ** s Eye View> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oKHd1c1APnY)

There is a rule to this four-by-four grid, and it is that no four stones placed can form a square or a rectangle, either horizontally or vertically. What is the largest number of stones you can place in the grid while following the above rule?

“There. Done.” Wilbur enters the correct number into the lock. It dings, falling away and clattering to the ground. He and Tommy lift the hefty dome and free their friend.

[Tubbo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ehCTkparvHI) envelopes Tommy in a hug, and through the thin fabric of his shirt, Tommy is aware of the pounding of his heart. Tubbo must have been so afraid all alone, stuck in the fortress and not even knowing when, if ever, rescue would come.

“Come on. We have to go and stop Jack,” Wilbur says.

“He said he was going up to the surveillance room,” Tubbo says.

The trio exit the room and heads back to the elevator, the doors sliding shut behind them. Tommy taps on the panel and, again, the screen flickers to life, displaying the four locations the elevator services.

However, when Tommy touches the portrait of the surveillance room, a red lock pops up on screen, of the same variety that had impeded their progress the first time.

Looks like they are going to have to solve another puzzle before they can proceed. This place is rather inaccessible for idiots, Tommy thinks. Not, he tells himself, that he is an idiot.

[ ** <Puzzle: Hidden in Plain Sight> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oKHd1c1APnY)

This confusing grid hides a plus, of the same size as the one displayed. Trace its shape out.

What in the world? How are they able to- Tommy gapes at the seemingly-impossible puzzle in front of them. Tubbo hums, staring intently at the grid.

“Got it!” Tubbo traces the plus and the virtual lock blinks away. Wilbur presses the button for the surveillance room. The elevator shudders before embarking on its journey to take them higher and higher into the fortress.

[Tommy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ehCTkparvHI) bites his lip, waiting in anticipation as the elevator continues to rise. Just what is going on outside? How much destruction is the mobile fortress wracking upon the real London? Jack is angry and is retaliating in the only way he knows how.

But it is still wrong, involving so many innocent people in this.

The elevator halts, doors opening to a corridor similar to the one that led to the ventilation room. Wilbur takes the lead, striding towards the door at the end with bold steps.

The surveillance room is big. Big and filled with monitors from the floor to the ceiling, hooked up to a supercomputer. The sheer number of levers and buttons and keyboards makes Tommy’s head spin. Jack stands in the middle of it all, arms folded, as if _waiting_ for them.

“Welcome to my fortress,” Jack says with a smirk. “Are you impressed?”

“With a weapon of mass destruction? I could never be,” Wilbur says firmly. “Abandon this insanity, Jack Manifold!”

“You _know_ how the stupid scientists and politicians are like. One of them have a one-track mind, and the other are lying two-faced bastards!” Jack shouts, the veins clearly visible on his head. “You _know_ , Professor Soot! You lost a close friend to their hubris too!”

“I did,” Wilbur says, swallowing thickly. “But dragging the lives of so many other innocent people into this…you’re no better than the people you hate!”

“Shut up!” Jack hisses. “Shut up! Shut up! I’m nothing like them! I will take away what means the most to those politicians. I’m going to inflict the same pain on them that they did to so many others. I’m going to take away their goddamn power!”

Jack slams his palm against a blue button on the control panel and the ground underneath him begins to descend. The floor shakes, coloured shapes blinking and flashing, resembling those of poker suits.

Is this another puzzle?

[ ** <Puzzle: The Final Tile> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oKHd1c1APnY)

“The tiles fall in a certain order, one adjacent tile to one adjacent tile, and you can keep your lives if you can find the final tile to fall. All three of you are going to have to stand on it if you want to live,” Jack says. He cackles as his head disappears from view, the man heading down the tube to safety.

“Up there!” Tubbo cries, noticing a set of symbols appearing on the largest monitor in the room. Heart, arrow, spade, arrow, diamond, arrow, club, arrow back to heart…

“This must be the order the tiles are falling in,” Wilbur says, humming, casting furtive glances at the tiles that make up the floor of the room. “But the first to fall might not be a heart…”

They have only got a few minutes before the tiles begin their descent… They have got to think. They _have_ to figure this out. Tommy traces the symbols with his eyes, drawing a mental picture in his head. Heart to spade to diamond to club…

“It’s this one! Come over here!” Tommy cries.

[The](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ehCTkparvHI) first tile begins to fall away right beneath Wilbur’s feet. Wilbur leaps to safety, landing beside Tubbo. Tommy sprints towards the tile he believes to be the answer to the puzzle and stands upon it. Around them, the tiles are falling away one by one, taking their glowing symbols with them.

Wilbur and Tubbo makes it to the tile safely, and the moment they do, the floor opens up beneath them.

“What the-” Tubbo barely has the chance to scream when the three of them are sent hurtling through a tunnel, sliding painfully down the sleek metal tube that delivers them right to a door.

Disoriented, Tommy picks himself up. Where _are_ they? A sudden bang snaps him from his thoughts. With a ram of his shoulders, Wilbur busts the door open, the trio finding themselves near the ramp their car is parked on.

Lo and behold, the car remains, unmoving.

“You flew up here on a car?” Tubbo cries.

“Fundy is a man of miracles, if I do say so myself,” Wilbur says. He opens his mouth to speak again, only to be interrupted by the whirr of a chopper above their heads. Tommy looks up, screeching as a strange contraption lands beside the car, its grotesque purple body an amalgamation of machine parts. The chopper’s blades slow their spin, and recognition dawns on Tommy’s face.

This is the same flying machine that Fundy had used in his attempt to murder them during their adventure at St. Mystere, minus the wrecking ball.

Just as Nihachu climbs out of the propeller, the fortress rumbles and a boulder rolls by, nearly squashing her. Before Fundy can exit the vehicle as well, another boulder knocks it clean off the ramp, the purple thing thrust from the fortress.

“Fundy!” Nihachu screams, but within seconds, the flying machine, now horribly dented in the tail, rises, swept along by the currents of air.

“Nihachu! What are you doing here? I thought I told you it was dangerous!” Wilbur rushes forward, grabbing her wrist and steadying her on this shaky machine.

Nihachu fixes him with a determined gaze. “I know how to stop Jack, Wilbur. We must find the generator room. Come on, now!”

Nihachu ducks her head into the fortress, and Wilbur, Tubbo and Tommy follow her. They make it to the elevator and the foursome squeezes into the cramped space.

“Is this the one?” Tubbo asks, gesturing to the portrait of the final room they have yet to visit. Unfortunately, much to Tommy’s frustration, this floor is puzzle-locked too.

[ ** <Puzzle: The Timepiece> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oKHd1c1APnY)

“Touch the panel with the timepiece on it,” Tommy reads from the screen.

“This one.” Nihachu says almost instantly, tapping a tile and the elevator jerks, already moving to their next destination. It opens to a maze of corridors this time. The tell-tale beep and clank of a machine alerts the group to the presence of unfriendly companions. It seems that Jack really does not want this generator room to be found.

Another thing that Tommy notices is the unimaginable number of doors visible from where they stand. Is one of these rooms the generator room?

“Alright. Here, I have a map that Fundy nicked off Jack…”

“And how did Fundy get a hold of that?”

Nihachu blinks. “Oh, uh…Fundy worked for Jack, actually. Not Karl. Paid him handsomely, but then their goals just…didn’t align anymore.”

Nihachu spreads the map out on the ground. “There are two bots that roam this floor, and we’re going to have to find the generator room by making use of those bots.”

[ ** <Puzzle: Connect the Bots> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oKHd1c1APnY)

“We have to avoid getting seen by those bots, but we can avoid them if we know their security routes,” Nihachu says. “See the red and green arrows? Those are the bots.”

“But we don’t know their routes,” Tubbo says.

“The bots will always turn at the rounded yellow corners,” Nihachu says. “And according to Fundy, the bots’ patrol routes won’t pass by the generator room.”

“That’s weird,” Tommy says. “Whyever not?”

“To prevent anyone from finding it. These bots’ camera feeds are probably transmitted to the surveillance room upstairs,” Wilbur says.

Nihachu fishes a pen out from her pocket. “Come on, let’s find the room.”

Nihachu draws the security bots’ routes onto the map, working out the one room that they avoid. Once done, she rolls the map up and they are on their way, with Wilbur, having memorised the route, leading them. The group splits up – Tommy with Wilbur and Tubbo with Nihachu – darting from wall to wall, shadow to shadow, avoiding the bots’ watchful eyes.

[After](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ehCTkparvHI) what feels like an eternity, the group finally reaches the generator room. The door opens with a simple push and they file in.

“That’s the Prime Minister!” Tubbo shouts.

Sitting in a strange machine, limp body strung up by curling wires, is Bill Hawks. He is unconscious, head dipped. Now that Tommy knows the truth, he holds no shred of sympathy for this man.

“How do we get him out?” Tommy asks, inspecting the chugging generator from different angles. “Can we just rip the wires?”

“Of course you can’t.”

Jack’s voice booms overhead. Tommy glances around. Where is that sound coming from?

“His heartbeat powers the machine,” Jack says, words bouncing off the walls in this echoey chamber. “The moment he leaves that spot, the machine’s going to self-destruct, with everyone inside it!”

Jack laughs maniacally, voice crackling and fading off. What Jack must be referring to are the wires curled around Hawks, transmitting the rhythm of his heartbeat to the generator to keep it going.

Is there no way to save him?

“Here.” Nihachu says, rummaging through her pocket and pulling out a pocket watch dangling by a golden chain.

Wilbur’s eyes widen. “That’s the one I gave…I gave Niki.”

“It was amongst her items that were delivered to me after she passed. It doesn’t run well anymore, but…” Nihachu sighs. “But I think this is our only way out of the situation…” She glances up at Wilbur, almost shyly. “If that’s alright with you.”

Wilbur nods. “It’s all in the past now, Nihachu. Niki isn’t with us anymore.”

Nihachu lays the plan out for them: they have to swap Hawks for the pocket watch to keep the machine running and to stop it from self-destructing. It will only last a few minutes, but those precious few minutes should be enough to get them safely out of here.

But first, they are going to have to open the door of the generator. Like every other door in this damn fortress, it is locked with a puzzle.

[ ** <Puzzle: The Crazy Keyholes> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oKHd1c1APnY)

Select the shapes from A to G that can be formed using the three oddly-shaped keys as shown below. However, keep in mind that the shapes chose must accommodate all three keys at once.

Tommy’s brain has never worked so fast in his life. Not, since, well, some time ago. Rotate that piece, flip it, fit it another way…swap in with another piece…

Tommy’s fingers fly across the screen, ticking off the shapes that work. Once he submits his answer, the lock clicks open.

“Ready?” Wilbur says. Nihachu grips the pocket watch tightly in her palm. Wilbur reaches for the wires, body tensed as he listens for the tick of the machine.

When the time is right, they do the transfer. The wires snap onto the pocket watch and Hawks tumbles forward, Tommy and Tubbo supporting him as he awakens, blinking blearily.

“What the-? Where are we…?” Hawks sounds confused, grumpily so.

“Quick! Let’s go!” Wilbur shouts.

The pocket watch ticks away as they leave the room, but Tommy knows it is not going to stay for long. They must get out of here, and fast!

It is time to return home and put this peculiar adventure behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Puzzles in this Chapter:   
> Cryptic Combo  
> Cat's Eye View  
> Hidden in Plain Sight  
> The Final Tile  
> The Timepiece  
> Connect the Bots  
> The Crazy Keyholes


	11. The Unwound Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> saying goodbye can be hard

[Wilbur](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zXNDbJ6almk&) slams the door shut, foot on the accelerator. Gravel and loose pieces of stone crash all around them as the ceiling of the cave collapses.

“Is everyone in?”

“What? Are we making our escape in this…rickety car?” Hawks sounds indignant. “Where’re the tanks? The planes?”

“Prime Minister, I would wholly appreciate it if you could keep quiet,” Wilbur huffs. Tommy bites the insides of his cheek. As it turns out, Wilbur no longer fears death.

“How dare you-!”

“Wilbur, everyone’s in! Let’s go!” Nihachu exclaims.

Before Hawks can continue with his rants, Wilbur steps on the accelerator. The car flies forward at such an alarming speed that Tommy slams into the back of seat. A boulder hurtles through the air, about to land right in front of them. Tommy squeezes his eyes shut, bracing for the impact that never comes. The car swerves, dodging crumbling boulders, piles of debris and earth that strike the ramp in such a haphazard manner.

An explosion has Tommy whipping his head around, noticing the pillars of dancing flames stretching high into the air, smoking billowing from where the machine has begun to self-destruct.

A piece of machine tears through the ramp ahead of them, interrupting their escape.

“There’s no more road!” Tommy cries. “Wilbur! Stop the car!”

Wilbur does not stop. If anything, he accelerates, the car’s noisy engine droning in Tommy’s ears.

“Wilbur?” Nihachu cries.

“Hang on tight!”

“This is crazy business! Do you even have a driving license?” Hawks demands. Tommy ignores him.

The car goes flying off the destroyed ramp, more and more explosions ringing in their ears, the force of it all throwing the car off course. Wilbur punches the red button by the steering wheel.

_“_ _That_ _’_ _s your ticket out of trouble, Wilbur._ _”_

Immediately, the car begins to transform. Sprouting from its sides are wings, carefully extending from within the car’s body. A propeller appears on the car’s bonnet and a tail grows from its rear. Tommy resists the urge to puke as his stomach drops like a rollercoaster.

“What the hell!” Tubbo cries. “Oh my God! We’re flying! We’re flying!”

A new set of controls has appeared on the dashboard. Wilbur tugs on a joystick and the diving plane begins to right itself. The plane circles the fortress, looking for a good place to land away from the chaos.

“Wait,” Nihachu says, tapping on Wilbur’s shoulder. “Jack’s still in there. We have to go back for him.”

“What? Go back?” Hawks squawks. “Are you out of your mind? I don’t know about you, but I’d-”

“Prime Minister. _Please_ do shut the fuck up.” Wilbur steers the plane, making their way back to the command room, a lone figure lying on the ground in the middle of it.

[The](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U-W4iDW5o6Y) moment Wilbur closes in on the room, the plate of metal just outside its smashed windows making for the perfect landing spot, Nihachu launches herself from the plane. The plane swerves, taking the rest of its occupants away from the danger.

“Are you going to leave her there?” Tommy cries.

“Of course not,” Wilbur says calmly. The plane descends sharply, spiralling to the ground. Tommy’s shrieks mix with Tubbo’s and Hawks’.

“Are you trying to kill us?” Hawks yells.

Thankfully, the plane lands with no problem, albeit with a bit of a jerky landing. Tommy is thrown forward, thanking his lucky stars that the yank of his seatbelt saved him from certain doom.

“Alright, Tommy, Tubbo, I’m going to need you guys to get to safety. Find Inspector Halo or Skeppy or any member of the police force and tell them that the Prime Minister is safe,” Wilbur says. “I’m going to go back up to find Nihachu and Jack.”

“But-” Tubbo starts. Tommy climbs out of the vehicle. He salutes Wilbur.

“You have our word, big man.”

Wilbur flashes him a smile. Tubbo and Hawks stumble out of the plane, and they stand back as the plane takes to the air once more, headed for the towering fortress.

*

“No! No! I refuse to…” Jack clutches his temple, staring at the large red warning symbol blinking on the screen, the blare of the alarm booming in his ears.

He is so close. He is so close to exacting his revenge. On selfish politicians who are willing to ruin the lives of everyone else to get to the top. He has done his fair share of research, working as a journalist. He knows the type of shit they get up to in the parliament.

Before Jack can continue his musings, a dislocated wire slams into him, smacking him across the throat and sending him flying back into the control panel. The air is knocked from his lungs and he coughs, a hand rising to his throat.

Already, he can feel the machine falling apart. The shards of glass on the ground cuts into his skin as he lays there, utterly exhausted. It’s all gone, isn’t it? His revenge is…

Finished.

The loud roar of an engine has Jack turning his head, noticing the arrival of someone with flowing blonde hair, striped with pink highlights. He can hardly muster the strength to move. Who is that? Is that…?

Someone offers him a hand, and Jack takes it. With her help, he pulls himself to his feet. It is almost as if…he is back in his mother’s embrace again…as the woman places her hands on his shoulder, steadying him as the world crumbles around them.

Why had the politicians won again? Why can’t they get the karmic retribution they deserve? Jack’s vision clears somewhat, and he recognizes the person who has come to save him. It is Jacobs’ friend, the one he tried to save but failed. The one who was friends with Wilbur Soot and Fundy. What was her name…?

The woman mumbles reassurances as they hobble out of the machine, past the window and onto a plate of metal. Something whizzes through the air, metallic and loud. It lands on the spot outside the command room, and the woman holds the door open as they enter.

“Seatbelts fastened?” The deep voice of Wilbur Soot floats into his ears. Numbly, Jack does as he is told, leaning back against the seat with the woman beside him. 

The plane – car? – takes off as the fortress falls, toppling over and crashing into the facility at the other end of the River Thames, water splashing high into the sky like a fountain. The plane soars, Wilbur skilfully manoeuvring the vehicle as they make their way to the ground.

It is all over, Jack thinks, watching as his life’s work, his grand plan, goes up in flames. His plan is gone for good.

For some reason…the anger has ebbed from him, the frustration and the loathing leaving him like steam from a kettle. The plane begins to lose altitude, and they approach the grassy plains, troops of police officers and soldiers waiting for them on the ground.

*

[“That’s](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W7f-kOoXhbI&) right!” Hawks stabs a finger at Jack and Jacobs’ retreating backs, cuffed and led away by officers. “Criminals like them shouldn’t be allowed to roam free! What in the world has this country’s police force come to?”

“You know,” Bad says serenely, “sometimes, there’s a reason these ‘criminals’ do the things they do. They aren’t the only one who has done terrible things in their lives.”

Hawks narrows his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, Prime Minister,” Bad says, shaking his head. “Come on, Skeppy. We’ve got a lot of paperwork to fill up.”

“Paperwork!” Skeppy whines but follows Bad as they head back up to the real London.

Tommy spies Wilbur in a distance, with Fundy and Nihachu. What could they be talking about? Fundy is the first to bid them a goodbye with a wave of his hand, a smile on his face that reflects neither hatred nor fury. It is almost…placating.

Nihachu pulls Wilbur in the direction of the mossy forest that links the Thames and Chinatown.

“Where are they going?” Tubbo asks, cocking his head in confusion.

Tommy shakes his head. “Don’t know, but Wilbur will join us soon.” This is Wilbur’s story to tell, his moment to share, and no one else’s. “Come on, Tubbo. Let’s wait for him upstairs.”

“Oh. If you’re sure.” Tubbo casts one more suspicious gaze towards the forest, but the duo is already out of sight. Tommy and Tubbo head off to find Bad and Skeppy.

Perhaps, if they are quick enough, they will be able to fix him a spot of dinner.

*

“Why’d you lie?”

The stars twinkle in the night sky, visible from where they sit. The real stars, not the sparkling pixie lights affixed to the walls. A cold breeze whips by, and Niki tugs the coat closer to her body. Wilbur shivers.

“Whatever do you mean?” Niki asks.

“You never had a sister. Bad checked the files,” Wilbur says, fidgeting. It is strange to be speaking once more to his best friend who had, apparently, perished in that accident five years ago.

Niki giggles. “That’s the Wilbur I know.” A moment of silence passes between them.

“You haven’t answered my question, Niki.” Wilbur tries his hardest to keep the despair from his voice because he knows what is coming. Something inevitable trundling along like a train through the countryside.

“I didn’t die that day. Not exactly,” Niki says. “You could say that for an instant, the time machine did work.”

“And you were shot five years into the future?” It sounds like something out of a fever dream.

“Yes.” Niki nods. “Karl found me when I was wandering and lost. It turns out that the molecules that made up my body could not sustain their stability, or something like that.

“He tried to build a time machine in order to help me stay, but…it was too dangerous messing with time,” Niki says. “I tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen to me.”

“So that means…?”

“The time machine is destroyed,” Niki says, staring off into the distance, where the facility continues to burn brighter than ever before in the dark of the night. “I’m sure that’s the answer you need.”

Wilbur furrows his brows. If they did not thwarted Jacobs’ plan, might Niki be able to stay? By his hand, has he doomed her?

“I’m sorry,” Niki says, standing. “I think it’s time for me to go.”

A feral beast rises in Wilbur’s chest, a primal drive raging in him.

Don’t go.

Not when I found you again.

Not when…

“Do you want me to…” God, fuck. He cannot say another word without his voice cracking.

“It’s fine,” Niki says with a smile, placing both hands on his shoulder. “Make sure you get along with Fundy, okay? Someone needs to keep him in line.”

With that, Niki runs off, Wilbur’s long brown coat trailing behind her, leaving Wilbur sitting at the bench alone. He sneezes, wrapping his arms around himself, willing the tears not to spill. After what must have felt like an eternity, Wilbur rises, wobbly on his feet.

He trudges over to where Niki’s gone, a sprinkle of hope with each drag of his feet through the mud. Maybe if he turned the corner, he will see her. Maybe she is just hiding. Somewhere.

Wilbur catches sight of something soft and brown pooled on the ground and his vision blurs. It is his coat. He picks it up from the ground and hugs it, shoulders convulsing, the pain in his heart threatening to burst.

It is as if he can still hear her voice, whispering to him.

“Thank you. For our unwound future.”

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NO Puzzles in this Chapter


	12. Epilogue: The Future's Lament

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> epilogue

[It](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NEA1Bsv-raU) has been a month or so, and Tommy finds himself standing by the pier, watching the waves crash into its eroded walls covered in barnacles. Tommy hates the spiny stuff. It once gave him a deep gash across his calf.

“I’m gonna miss you, big man,” Tubbo says.

“Same here, Tubbo.”

Soon, Tommy is going to be far away, moving across half the country for his father’s job. Sure, he will get to visit occasionally, but that means that it will be ages before he gets to see any of his friends again.

The ship’s horn blares. It is almost time to go. Tommy glances around. His friend said that he will be here. Where is he?

“Tommy?” His mother’s shouting for him already. “Are you ready?”

No, he is not. He is not ready to leave this life behind, a life of curious adventures and journeys, of excitement and vigour.

“Yes, mum.”

Tommy gives Tubbo one last hug before hopping off his luggage and drags it behind him, heading over to where his family waits.

Until he hears the thumping of frantic footsteps behind him. When Tommy spins on his heels, he sees a familiar figure running up to him, brown coat flapping by his legs. He is always looked a little weird, Tommy thinks, with that coat of his.

“I apologize.” Wilbur wheezes, grasping his chest as he stops right in front of Tommy. “It’s no excuse, but I-”

“It’s fine, big man. You look like you just ran a marathon,” Tommy says. “By the way, you stink.”

“I had to…” Wilbur gasps for breath. “I was visiting Jack. Jack Manifold. And Karl Jacobs.”

Tommy knows him. The man who had almost destroyed half of London. It had been a tragedy on the news for weeks, filled with mourning and protests and…Needless to say, it was one of the darkest times London’s ever experienced.

“Wilbur,” Tommy says, gaze meeting his friend’s. “We’ll still be…friends, right?”

Wilbur nods, having calmed down some. “Of course. I daresay that our friendship would last as long as you want it to, Tommy. Even if that means an eternity.”

Tommy nods, grinning. He can always count on Wilbur to say the silliest things. He raises his fingers to his temple in salute.

“I’ll see you soon, big man.”

Wilbur reciprocates it. There is a short exchange between his parents and Wilbur, thanking him for taking care of Tommy all this time before they head up the ship.

Tommy waves at Wilbur and Tubbo until they are but mere dots on the stone pier. Already, he begins to miss them as he stands aboard the deck. He will continue to miss them, to long for the adventures that they have experienced as a team.

Even across the waves, across vast stretches of the sea, of plains, of whatever that lies between them, Tommy knows that their friendship would last. Through and through.

Maybe he could reminiscence about their past adventures…now that he has the time…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NO Puzzles in this Chapter!
> 
> Thank you for reading through the entire series thus far! This marks the end of the first trilogy of Prof. Soot and Asst. Tommy!
> 
> Will probably be working on the next trilogy: The Last Spectre, the Miracle Mask and the Azran Legacy. I don't think I'll be including the Eternal Diva though...might consider writing PLvsAA, but not Layton Brothers or Katrielle...


	13. Puzzle Solutions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> puzzle solutions!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> arranged by chapter for easy access! 
> 
> Can Ctrl+F for the chapter number or puzzle title!

**Chapter 1:**

What's the Time? 

The answer is 6am/pm! That is the only time when the clock's two hands are exactly parallel to each other apart from 12 noon/midnight.

What Day Is It?

Image attached is for easy visualization 

**Is this the Future?**

Pick the Pen

The answer is C! The first move should be to move the only white cap to the only pen without the white cap (i.e. C). The green cap should then shift to the other remaining pen that has a blue-coloured cap, which is D. Since the third clue states that the working pen is to the left of the one with the green cap, then that means that the working pen should be C!

Making the Rounds: 

The digits 2 and 7 are only used once, while the rest of the digits are used twice. That means that you may either start from 29 or 71. No matter which room you choose to start from, 63 will always be the fifth room the doctor passes through.

**A Boy Named Tommy**

The Marked Cup

The answer is the leftmost cup! Cup A! 

Since the marked cup moved to the rightmost position, that must mean that it switched places with the cup that was originally there, which is now in the middle position. Therefore, the only cup that didn't move is the cup in the leftmost position. 

Puzzle Battle vs Future Tommy

The spade is on the rightmost card. By following Future Tommy's rules, the heart cannot be the rightmost card, and that a club is to its left. Now, the rules also state that the heart is beside a diamond, which thusly lies to its right. There is only one position whereby the three cards may sit where the club is not next to a spade. Therefore, the order goes like this: Club, heart, diamond, spade. 

**Back to the Present**

Double Digits: 

From A to D:

To fulfill the conditions of this puzzle, station C must lie between A and B.

Back and Forth: 

They take 5 hours! This puzzle makes sense when you realize that there must be one driver going back and forth between the two locations. 

Cookie Conundrum: 

Find the Clock Tower:

**A Short Detour**

Time Times Three: 

Nine is the only digit that gives a number ending in 7 when multiplied by 3. It's the only possible choice for box D. If the number in box A is larger than 1, then it would exceed 60mins. The rest can be calculated step by step. 

Arrow Flow: 

False Memory: 

B is the answer because when he matches 9 pairs from the start, there are only two remaining cards which MUST be the final pair. Therefore, what he has said is impossible.

Five Stamps: 

3 + 3 + 3 = 9. Just turn the "6" stamp around to make "9"!

Strange Glasses: 

The answer is G. It is not obvious, but the relationship between the shapes and the axes would help a lot in this puzzle! 

Eye of the Dragon: 

Mirror Maze: 

**The Master of the Towering Pagoda**

Puzzle Battle vs Karl Jacobs (1)

A Blind Escape: 

A simple maze.

**Across The Thames**

The Right Button: 

Missing Tiles

**The Truth Revealed:**

Puzzle Battle vs Karl Jacobs (2)

The solution has already been embedded in the chapter! It's a simple game of Minesweeper!

Around the Table: 

The tricky part is to notice that the people aren't seated directly opposite each other. 

**The Stronghold of Madness**

A Cryptic Combo: 

Cat's Eye View

No matter how the orbs are arranged, the maximum number you can enter into the grid is 9! 

Hidden in Plain Sight: 

I hated this puzzle. 

The Final Tile: 

The Timepiece: 

The hourglass tells the time!

The Crazy Keyholes:

A, B, D F and G are the correct answers! C and E don't work. E looks like it may work, but the key no. 2 is actually backwards.

**Author's Note:**

> Puzzles in this Chapter:   
> What's the Time?  
> What Day Is It?


End file.
